Potluck

 

T H I S    W E E K

Poems by Jessie Janeshek

 

Two Poems

To Create

 

It crept up behind me one day, as
It always does. It took, conditioned, 
And kept me. It used to be supple. 
I could harness, change, and tease it 
How I pleased. Now, there are silky 
Scales I peel off my skin 
Each time It laughs at the words
I’ve sewn together. 
Our gray veins have become exposed
Across plains, drowned in shared 
Vital fluid. If I ask, It will leave me be. 
It contracts as a face, an extension 
Of my capacity. It is a large, 
Sharp-toothed being that glides 
Beneath my crust. I don’t mind. 
I’ll jump in with just my skin, 
And a tempting bucket of chum will 
Be thrown in behind me. Its threat lingers
In each carbon I breathe. 
One day, It’ll place a hand 
Between the quills on my back. 
Something good, It’ll say, 
While scraping against the 
Thin walls that keep me 
In, pulsing electricity. 
With each turning of the planet
I’ve yelped. Louder, and louder. 
And then, I seized. That’s when It 
Tapped me on the shoulder, and 
Shone. A dull brightening.

 

 

 

 

Sprout Brilliance

 

If I could, I would fold 
Your limbs and grim 
Memories into me. 
Wash them and toss 
Them, and then release.
The bricks you carry
Are so heavy that they
Will help you sink. 
Open the door and 
Reveal your face, it’s 
A sharper memory.
As you let the fur fall 
The germs crawled 
On top of me. Never 
Expect anything from 
Anyone is what you said, 
Under your genetically 
Liquored breath. 
When the mold on your brain
Sprouts a musky grey
Brightness of brilliance
I hope to be there.

 

 

 

 

Hennah Saber is a recently-declared Finance Major. She is a writer of words, a tamer of horses, and a lover of monsters.