{"id":5037,"date":"2014-10-12T02:09:19","date_gmt":"2014-10-12T02:09:19","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/sporkpress.com\/?p=5037"},"modified":"2014-10-12T02:09:19","modified_gmt":"2014-10-12T02:09:19","slug":"3-poems-kimberly-ann-southwick","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/2014\/10\/12\/3-poems-kimberly-ann-southwick\/","title":{"rendered":"3 Poems || Kimberly Ann Southwick"},"content":{"rendered":"

one perfect banana<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

the ocean and how it crept through and up to the garden, even though<\/p>\n

we were in Pennsylvania. the sad part is it wasn\u2019t a dream or a vision<\/p>\n

of the future\u2014which would also be sad. the sad part is the oysters,<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

in their shells. the sad part is what all the vegetarians will do<\/p>\n

when there are no more vegetables\u2014what all the vegetarians will<\/p>\n

do when there are no more legumes, no more meatless pizzas,<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

when all that exists is already alive and needs to be killed<\/p>\n

for us to survive.<\/p>\n

the ocean and how it lost its will to tide<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

and instead just ebbed, ebbed, ebbed and kept ebbing,<\/p>\n

sobbing like giving up like laying itself flat\u2014like, i\u2019m<\/p>\n

tired of this shit\u2014like, i\u2019m tired of being the ocean<\/em>, it might<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

have said to me, and i said that it was okay and patted its head<\/p>\n

or where i thought its head might be since it was the ocean and<\/p>\n

not something with a head. it seemed to quiet, the ocean did,<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

and i didn\u2019t want to walk away, but i did want to send it a card,<\/p>\n

a greeting card, one of those \u201csupport\u201d cards, one of those,<\/p>\n

I\u2019m thinking about you, ocean, and everything will be okay<\/em> cards,<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

so I stopped at Target and took some of the ocean with me in a jar<\/p>\n

so that it wouldn\u2019t think i had given up on it. i didn\u2019t think<\/p>\n

that it should be alone.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

the ocean and how i sent it to look for bananas:<\/p>\n

ripe ones<\/em>, i said, but not too ripe<\/em>, so it went to find them, a pretty much<\/p>\n

impossible task\u2014 even one perfect banana is mostly impossible to find.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

while it was searching, i bought the ocean a card and when i sent it,<\/p>\n

later that day, i addressed it, one stamp, to the ocean<\/em> and i didn\u2019t<\/p>\n

say which particular ocean because, really, no matter where we draw<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

any arbitrary lines in the water, it\u2019s just one big ocean.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

dear d.,<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

sometimes i wish i never wore the sequin dress. sushi is the way to a girl\u2019s heart. i want you to see me from far away carrying something heavy across a large room. when the sun is out and you are inside and there are no windows\u2014do you also forget the sun is out? love me, leave me alone, love me. i want to stay in a hotel in my own damn city. i want to stay in a hotel room and i want to run the bath water and i want to order room service and i want to keep the door unlocked and let you know my room number and weigh myself naked on the scale and not be frightened.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

dear essam,<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

your car is the only car in my egypt that isn\u2019t a taxi. i like to think you still have your car. i like to think you still have an ipod full of misspelled words. you are driving through the streets to zamalek and everything is fine. you are going up the elevator to the art studio where you make sculpture and where ahmed edits photos and everything is fine. you are dropping a cigarette butt off of the balcony and everything is fine. there is furniture outside and everything is fine. it doesn\u2019t rain and everything is fine. you are texting me, overseas message rates be damned, from another country to tell me you are listening to \u2018i loves you borgy\u2019 and everything is fine. everything is fine.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 
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