I feel incredibly blessed by the experiences I had at Iowa State University, where I earned my MFA in Creative Writing and Environment, learned from some amazing poets (Heather Derr-Smith, Debra Marquart, and Mary Swander), and served as President of Ames-ISU for Darfur. Since graduating, I have been fortunate to teach a wide variety of English and Communication courses, and I hope to bestow upon my students a love for writing. Feel free to follow me on Twitter @bdburmeister.
I remember my arm about her
As we sat on her crappy green couch,
The one her brother gave her
With the middle collapsed.
As we watched Invisible Children
She grew silent, no words or nods for my comments.
The children, sleepless and hungry,
Confessed through the screen
That many of them saw
Their parents beaten or shot.
The hour grew long and her eyes
Never left the scrolling names of production workers
Until all was black.
I remember thinking to myself
That she must feel a part of this world
I could not. That my heart
Was defective. Hers strong.
I could see the injustice and need
For things to be done. Even I
Knew my part, that I would write checks or letters
But I couldn’t really feel
Until two days later when she came over
For dinner and solved my mystery
By breaking things off.
©2015 Brian Burmeister