Honey Poem by Arielle Greenberg

Honey

Rating: 3.0


I am three months out and six to go,
stuffing my plastic Superball body with the salt
& twang of crackers die-cut into the shapes of fish.
God forsakes me when I forsake him
but mostly he's much kinder, as is his duty:
I am radiant, people tell me, and have no hives,
except the swarm of gold bombs biting its way
into my sticky hollow. And I don't mean sex.
I am just a menagerie for bright orange creatures.
Even my dreams are godless (and full
of God): I dream I am guided
by an elderly couple in a dim farmhouse
to their morning radio and blackberry tea
and then given the combs which I snap
into my dry mouth where they fill and fill.
Never, upon awaking, have I been so empty
and wanted more a cracker. Never so
suffused with the weekly, with time
as another god passing through the many perfect
crypts and ambers I house beneath my skin.

Wednesday, June 17, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: parenting
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Kelly Kurt 17 June 2015

First child? Keep documenting your subjective journey. This piece was gold

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Poems By Arielle Greenberg
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Arielle Greenberg

Arielle Greenberg

United States
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