They never told us in school
what to think about
during that minute of silence.
Once I thought the whole time
about Nathaniel Roque
and whether he liked
Debbie Chan-Yan more than me.
I knew I was supposed to be sad
and I tried to think about my granny’s twin brother,
shot down over Malta,
but the words were too big
for my head.
A kid told me now they’re supposed to tell
the dead soldiers what they’re thankful for
so I tried it that way today
but my head felt small again,
so tired at the thought
of all that flesh and heartbeat
erased
for what.