“Apologies” was a collaborative project that invited people to send us poems, stories, paragraphs or whatever that told the story of a wrong-doing of which the author was not really sorry for. Below are the five pieces we received.
I lied on this
invitation. And I’m
glad I did it.
I’d do it again if
it weren’t meaningless
I am sorry- I told
a lie and put it in
this green box last week.
I lied in this first sentence
today. I am not sorry
for it. I lied to you
and I’m not sorry- I am
glad I gave you what you wanted!
I recall the elevated lightness
bustling Butterflied of our acquaintance
as I tripped, tumbled, crashed
years passed with little acknowledgement
beyond things erogenous
My need for connection,
affection and reciprocity
grew to a swell that broke
My moral compass
I battled for the soul of me
When someone whispered from a cafe
that he’d found it
our hearts resonated with poetry
He offered me a seat
I took one in his soul
but sometimes the saying goes this way;
Two parts can make a hole.
I ‘m sorry for my vengeance
I’m sorry for your pain
Yet if put in the same circumstance
I’d do it all again
So, for what it’s worth. Here it is
It may be of no real consequence
An apology of ambivalence
I pushed my sister into the frog pond.
I was four. She was six.
To this day I don’t know why. We
were playing just fine.
I’ll never forget the sound of “splash”
as she fell into the mud, her
overalls needing an instant trip into
Is there something that lurks inside all of us? Something that we can’t explain?
And will it bubble up again?
I was walking in downtown NY City, taking in the sights. There was a lady sort of running up Seventh Ave. I was very surprised because something had happened to her, and she was naked above her waist and had no shoes. She looked horrified, and I just stood there with my mouth open.
She kept going north, and I kept going west. Two blocks later, it dawned on me that I had just bought fabric and I could have given her some. Two blocks more and it dawned on me that I could also have offered her a ride in my car.
I’ve wished ever since that I had done something for her.
I’m 65 now and looking back, my biggest regrets in life have been when I’ve NOT done a kindness. I can apologize to my friends but I’ll never be able to find her and apologize.
- Edythe McKee is finishing her Associate in Fine Arts this May and has been admitted to Umass Amherst. She hopes to achieve a BFA there.