I will do anything to avoid being          caught up
in the thin         of the thick of things

just last year I was rife by          the river bed
spreading poison oak all over          hoping

my skin might erupt          in rubicund blooms fit
for good luck or           a bearing of extremes

how do you keep your teeth        in a row
with so many cracks        to slip through

like a suspended drawbridge        one faulty step
and so begins        the almighty fall        inward

could you imagine         my father escaped war like
a homophone         a name that was not a name

one letter away from the frontlines        such that the ink
executes the spelling        spells out the execution

for the appropriate order of induction        I sustained parties
by folding myself        into shelves        next to canned peaches

bergamot and aloe vera         ginger to ease my feverishness
the stench of hunger        covering everything

as a perfume to advertise what’s       not inside us
do you have an eye for detail        particularly the two

versions of your voice          that diverge at this second
moving ever apart          thousands of their offspring

screaming          in unison          I cradle my head
drag my greedy fists through the air          to possess them

pack them in a glass jar          water through cupped palms
the final sentence would be          reverberation          but

that’s the thing about        desire and impulse
one occupies a state         the other impels

 

—Published 14th of December 2020

 

About Tryn Brown