One Poem to Rule Them All
One Poem To Rule Them All
I am still learning
to sit topless on my back
porch. The sun would ripen
my used breasts like two
misshapen plums.
Chen Chen and Meg
already know how to keep their neighbor’s
secrets. The boxed wine. The infrequent
visits from a daughter.
I am still learning to keep mine.
What I really think about hummingbirds,
the unspeakable afternoons,
swirls of red paint and smoke.
Even if, like Sedna,
one were to lop off all my
fingers, I’d keep my top
held down while I ceased
to struggle, while I sank.
Tell me more about the music
of your youth, how it feels
to know no one is coming
to get you. Don’t you remember?
I said I’m still learning.
I hold my palms behind the backs
of my ears, catching
whatever reverberates
in the wind.