by Michelle Galanter, M. Phil., Ed.M.

 

How do you expect me to believe in death?

I live in an apartment on West End Avenue, for crying out loud!

You think I’m just going to stop living here?

I bought it in the ‘80s for nothing. 

Plus, the doorman knows me. We talk sports.

And my neighbors, this one kid, couldn’t reach the third floor button,

Now he’s visiting from college for Thanksgiving.

I can smell their dinner cooking, 

Even though the walls are thick as Fort Knox. 

It must be a joke that I’ll be dead someday. 

With all this. 

You’ll never get me to believe in death.

I believe in West End Avenue. 

 

 

Michelle Galanter, M.Phil., Ed.M. is a second-year candidate in the Licensure Qualifying Program at the Manhattan Institute for Psychoanalysis. She has a background in educational psychology, educational innovation and teaching. 

 

 

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