I WON’T LIE THIS PLAGUE OF GRATITUDE
I won’t lie this plague of gratitude
________is hard to bear I was comfortable
in my native pessimism not this spun-
________sugar fantasy last night I made actual
__________________________________cake there were no worms in the flour no
__________________________bloody whirls in the eggs afterwards the minor
__________________________________holiday below my waistband remained festive
__________________________as ever when I touched two breasts each one
was my favorite not long ago I was hard to even
________hug like ribbons of cartilage cut
from a lamb I dressed in shredded roses
________and pistachio shells I drank an entire language
__________________________________and flung tar at whatever moved
__________________________until the world cut me open like a tube of paint
__________________________________until it crushed me between its fingers
__________________________like a hornet none of it was graceful
I had to learn to love people one at a time
________singing hey diddle diddle will you suffer me
a little how could they say no
________how could they say anything I kept
biting their tongues I kept clicking
__________________________my heels now I am cheery
__________________________________and Germanic like a drawer full
__________________________of strudel I always wanted to be a saint
but I thought I’d be one of the miserable
________ones sainted by pain burnt alive inside
a brazen bull instead I weep openly at obnoxious
________beauty cello music comes in
__________________________________from blocks away and I lose it completely
__________________________there is a word for these fits of incomprehensible
__________________________________delight I said it last night
__________________________when my mouth was full of cake
First published in Black Warrior Review, Issue 43.2, and reproduced with Kaveh’s permission.
The Kindling 