Potluck

 

T H I S    W E E K

Poems by Taneum Mariah Bambrick

 

Four Poems

 

my boy back home doesn’t call it beautiful,
doesn’t say anything at all
hands like stone things I have forgotten like
grief in the snow his body
in my mind not a body still
how much will you ask me to hold
how much will I hold without you asking

 

 

 

 

 

i just want to quit looking at your horoscope before i look at mine
 

my mom keeps telling me i’m going to go bald before i turn 30
i keep pulling at my hair anyway

i’m thinking about shaving it all off
i mean it this time at least

that’s what i’ve been telling people, drunk at house parties
in a place you’ll never see

what you would think if i became a new self
can i become a new self

i wait til i think you’re asleep to text you
so i don’t have to feel so bad when you don’t text back

 

 

 

 

 

let’s pretend that every night is new year's eve        like
we finally  realize          the inescapability
of spring     so fuck it      let’s celebrate        let’s paint the moon
with glue       throw glitter at it        let it rain down all around
like some new bright thing         we can’t escape       

let’s kiss

with some desperation           like we still only know how
to fight

 

 

 

 

 

we don’t see the same weather patterns anymore
 

i still have your address saved
in my weather app

and i like to check your weather
when i’m checking mine

and usually when i’m sad
which happens a lot now

the last night i saw you it was flooding
but i didn’t tell you to drive safe 

after you left, i left. followed the lightning
to another place. the lightning is angry here

i would do it over
i would tell you to be careful this time

 

 

 

 

Rebecca Brown is an MFA candidate at the University of Alabama, with work recently published or forthcoming from Skydeer Helpking, Alien Mouth, and Little River. They can usually be found on Twitter @notalake, or on Tumblr at notamountain.tumblr.com.