I have never been so anguished that I’ve threatened someone with death
and I live among Man, who does. My anguish is I don’t know what to do
with this information beyond live. The robins are out. The violets. In my
old life, when the violets ached out the cold dirt, I became overcome with
a genius that stings my eyes. Now, my cat smells a piece of lint on the carpet
and I sit in my upholstery of options. I’ve loved the wrong way for so long
I forgot about the violets, these forever preverbals. I let myself out of spaces.
The lobby door clicks shut and I’ve never been more sorry. I dismiss the red
watch of weather. I pass the dead owl in the grass by the parking lot, a rod
impaled through its head. I say what I always say: I’m sorry this happened
to you. I’m sorry this happened to you. I’m sorry this happened to you.
The image of this owl hits me in a preverbal place.
This:
The robins are out. The violets. In my
old life, when the violets ached out the cold dirt, I became overcome with
a genius that stings my eyes.
and the ending, OH YES!
Oh my god the owl will stay with me Jesus this gallops.
Now, my cat smells a piece of lint on the carpet
and I sit in my upholstery of options. I’ve loved the wrong way for so long
I forgot about the violets, these forever preverbals. I let myself out of spaces.
!!!
this whole poem has me reeling
Damn this ending!
Yeah, that ending. Well, the whole poem. Just amazing, Natalie. “I sit in my upholstery of options.” <3