A journal of semi-detached poetry.

Sarah Kersey - Poems (2)

The Mundane Feel More Than Realized

Yesterday resigns itself to dresser,
contesting all the time through slack jaw.
Old jeans robbed of change,
bleach-stained sweats,
shirts outgrown,
socks without mates.

Closet is lined with tomorrows.
Some of the clothes worn before
have that stress sweat
requiring a pre-treat scrub.
Plastic hangers; brittle wheelbarrows.

Today snaps.

Flu is in the air, clouds thick with phlegm.
Migraine rising in the sky.
The weatherman’s forecast was wrong again.
He cannot predict how it will empathize
with its inhabitants---it could be the only thing
that understands them all day.

“Invitation” (from Debt to Income:  A Suite)

Me and a guest but
a guest is supposition.

I’ve been single all my life and was invited to attend a
wedding and reception.  Though I will return
home to myself,
“I have to put my best foot forward.”

No one could teach me how.
At 14 my friend asked me to dance with him.
After 30 seconds I was summarily dismissed.
“Go sit down.”
Another time in line for a kickball game in the street
I backed into him,
“Bumping and grinding.”
I somehow aroused his mistake.
No wonder humans aren’t perfect,
there is pleasure in sin.

An arched foot is just like
an hour glass.
How long could I walk in these shoes?
How long could I tiptoe on a weapon?

I’ll be handicapped by manicure,
made lame by pedicure.
I wear a uniform most days or
restrict my dresses to two or three
so my body won’t change on me.
I’ll melt my words to a hum.
At the table I will chew my calories and make
a pleasing sound.

All I ask is:  whoever God grants clemency to that day
and lets them dare bring man and woman together again,
I don’t want to know their nakedness.
Emotions let loose in the dark kick bedposts.


(Text © Sarah Kersey - Publication: Summer 2018)



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