The Boat of My Body
He tugged at my skirt. Said: vessel.
He hoisted me down. Yelled: voyage.
Yes, I am boat. Was born
half forest. Still think about that axe.
I want to smell like mahogany again.
I want all these hands out of my cabin.
Not to mention the oars,
forced down the mouths
of rivers or-
Noah was the first.
He said: Here is everything
left of this world.
Carry it for me. Your belly speaks.
A soft, wet float.
AWARDS AND NOMINATIONS
"At the Bar My Friend Talks of Bodies" published in The Penn Review (forthcoming)