Poetry: ‘Fever / Feed Her’
This poem is about why she doesn’t write poems anymore
and why she hasn’t truly slept
since late July’s shadow crept
away and wept
in rain
that drowned the fields
you came to work as a martyr
I’ve had a fever for months
and when it breaks, I worry whether
I’ll fly or crumble with it
Personality traits
on eyelids
cry, kids
you’ll find
sometimes
a sigh, kids
will save you
but is a crime
in terms of saving others
I’ve been dreaming about talking to you;
Remembering,
that time I had the flu.
They tempted me with butter and jam
and I remained appetized by your crumb-less plate
were you trying to tell me
it was already too late?
So I starved off the sunflower seeds they placed in my palm
I chose to thread them into a necklace
because you can’t sow seeds
if they’re beads around a collarbone
choking you up
until you’re all alone
So you went home
and left me in
seafoam,
free form,
battered knees adorn
a corpse that copes
and floats
in brackish water
Stomach empty,
she thinks she’s a daughter.
