This poem was written on that flight to Mexico City and since then has gone through many edits. So many verses have been re-written or discarded altogether. And even though I’m publishing it now it will continue to evolve, I’m sure.

Is that a state? people ask
about a tattoo on my arm.
Yes, I reply,
Liquid.
Anger.
My favorite responses so far.

I’m not so far off
only that it is not one state
but many,
a federation, if you will.

It is the state of darkness,
of realization,
of the burden of living,
of the gift of life.

It is the state of grace,
of forgiveness of myself,
of being unworthy,
of gratitude in receiving anyway.

It is the state of depletion,
of fulfillment,
of doubt,
of confidence.

It is the state of joy,
of being overwhelmed,
of being overcome,
of overcoming.

It is the state of contradiction,
of meditation,
of mental chaos,
of peace.

It is the state of constancy,
of change,
of perseveration,
of letting go.

It is the state of living,
the how,
the why,
the decision to continue.

Is that a state? people ask
about this tattoo on my arm.
No, I reply,
it’s just a ride.
My actual response so far.

I’m not so far off,
but I never explain.
Sometimes it is just a ride,
and sometimes it is life.

–the violet zoo