#proems

The broccoli is perfect

The soup is leftover, but that’s fine

Green tea with ginseng

My stomach is full, heart steady

nothing to be said

and nothing in me working to say it

Just the traffic on the streets and the blood in my veins and the lovely waxing gibbous hanging in the sky, so

wonderfully framed by the skyscrapers

& chewing & chewing & chewing & chewing

& chewing & chewing & chewing & chewing

& chewing & chewing & chewing & chewing

I am in awe

I am in love

I am not at war with my body

The car in the parking garage as late night becomes later night becomes early morning

Here in this transitional space it all feels so far away; feels

safe from time and everything. From

tomorrow

Waiting for the whites of our eyes to show themselves again so that we can finally shut them all the way

The sun dragging its wound over the horizon

Cirrus eddies in its wake

Awash in my own afterglow

drove all night to

somewhere familiar:

a stop on the way to

somewhere new.

chips and pie and coffee and monster

medications and a megadose iron supplement

churning nauseating.

——————

on the porch

before sunrise

a horribly canoeing joint purchased pre-rolled

smoldering strangely in its legality

panties too small

the ol’ house creaking

my how things have changed.

beyond smoke i can still see my breath

—autumn wandering in warily—CO₂

warm from deep, even, peaceful

respirations

warm from the love i have for myself:

new womanhood, forward motion.

warm from the love of friends, family:

their support all mixture of

clumsy, motivating, whole, un-self-conscious,

embracing, enveloping, amniotic

—known, felt.

the world isn’t so dark

the world isn’t so cold

though my feet are.

the peeking sun bringing out

the red in the front-lawn

tree’s leaves

sugar and fat and yeast on an otherwise

empty stomach

coffee from the donut shop

light and

sweet and

carrying the taste of the plastic lid with it

moss-slick rocks the lake’s

crooked cracked lower jaw

paper-white shark fins serrating

the horizon

sun gentle

waves calm, slow, carrying

memories lazily back to me

all the time in the world

the wasps can smell

the sugar-sweet sentiment

the chocolate on the corner of my mouth

wide quadratic grin

eyes welling over

sweat on my arms

beading and flowing

to wrists, to dripping

hairs coming in sickeningly dark

in the light of the sky’s clear blue smile—

kind words and

an embrace

for me

“you will be okay”

look to the future:

black raspberries delicate and fragile

in a flimsy green recycled cardboard carton

hands slick and clumsy

clumsy

holding too tight, as always

these fuzzy fruits turned a purple smear

across palms of

hands aching to keep steady and calm

but through the effort

feeling at home in my body

beaming

a smile of my own

to match the sun—

spreads: apricot and almond

ample

oats softening on the stove

brown sugar

ground flax

fresh blueberries

sliced banana

cinnamon

washing dishes and sweeping floors and sorting papers and making calls

taking notes

flying flags and lighting candles and breathing deep and loosening limbs

connective tissue

steadying

a favorite album floating in air

overfilling my eyes with water

winning the battle / losing the war—but

and the trees

a cucoloris,

shadows dancing across this corpse—

MY corpse

hair tangled

humming pushing air straight from my diaphragm

gas exchange

magnesium

for the throbbing

aches and

shoes a brown mottle from silty rain puddles