#irene mathieu

self-isolation poem #4! today’s is “soil” by Irène Mathieu from her collection Orogeny, transcribed below. feel more than free to share but please don’t remove the caption! hope you’re all staying safe & sane out there! 💙💙

soil

the way you say soil sounds like soul, as in

after we walked through the woods my feet were covered in soul

when it rains the soul turns to mud

the soul is made of decomposed plant and animal matter;

edaphology is the study of the soul’s influence on living things

while pedology is the study of how soul is formed, its particular granularity.

you are rooted in a certain red patch of soul that bled you and your

hundred cousins to live, a slow warm river you call home.

maybe there is soul under everything, even when we strike rock first.

the way you say soil sounds like soul, as in

after we walked through the woods my feet were covered in soul

when it rains the soul turns to mud

the soul is made of decomposed plant and animal matter;

edaphology is the study of the soul’s influence on living things

while pedology is the study of how soul is formed, its particular granularity.

you are rooted in a certain red patch of soul that bled you and your

hundred cousins to life, a slow warm river you call home.

maybe there is soul under everything, even when we strike rock first.

things are close together here – trauma and innocence are neighbors – dancing and bullets share afternoon coffee – a virgin beach once slept with a gold mine.

the salsa flares and flies land on green bananas. when what ripens splits to rot the memory of sunlight will be excruciating.