Two Poems

Why I’m Here

 

I have no clue-it was weird, yes
but I would say molested but
not abused like the one
here who was raped
repeatedly and caged or that one
chained four hundred days to a radiator…

But, the technicians insist (in laymen
terms) there is always the initial,
primal, if you will, incident after
which the connection to the body
is intrinsically damaged—think
electrical cord, think frayed—
it’s the culmination of subsequent,
less significant incidents that cause
the final, often irreparable, split.

We all here want, hope to be fixed—
but chances of a successful retro-fit
to the body depends
on remembering—
most cases are too far
gone, the damage.

 

 

 

Unbearable

after Milan Kundera

 

Want to make love
outdoors and eat dark
bread knock out
this wall with a sledge-
hammer and let the night
in sink my arms in warm
mud all the way up
to my elbows swim
in the black river
that runs through the city—
all night, under water.

 

 

 

 

Nancy Mitchell is a 2012 Pushcart Prize winner and the author of The Near Surround (Four Way Books, 2002) and Grief Hut (Cervena Barva Press, 2009). Her poems have appeared in, Agni, Columbia College Literary Review, Green Mountains Review, Poetry Daily, Tar River Review, Thrush, Tulane Review, and Washington Square Review among others. She is the co-editor of and chief contributor to Plume Interviews I (2017). Mitchell teaches at Salisbury University in Maryland and serves as the Associate Editor of Special Features for Plume.

 

 

 

 

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