Back in January, I shared Meghana and Chetan Junnuru’s poem “May,” a poem that ends with the all-too-salient line: “May tomorrow be awake with the touch of zero.” It has become something like a sonnet for Unrestricted writers, a linguistic handshake that passes from student to student, each making the poem their own in some unexpected way. Today I’d like to share some of these further iterations of “May,” launched into flight like anaphoric prayers toward tomorrow.
May Today Be Awake
May Today Be Awake
May Today Be Awake
Back in January, I shared Meghana and Chetan Junnuru’s poem “May,” a poem that ends with the all-too-salient line: “May tomorrow be awake with the touch of zero.” It has become something like a sonnet for Unrestricted writers, a linguistic handshake that passes from student to student, each making the poem their own in some unexpected way. Today I’d like to share some of these further iterations of “May,” launched into flight like anaphoric prayers toward tomorrow.