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Ode to a Parallel Universe in Which You Revel in Mortality

                                                                Catherine Kyle

 

1

I ask where you most want to

make love and you say, Behind the fire line.

 

A blaze approaches. The gray

air snaps. The birds have all

 

departed. Acrid smoke bites  

our lungs. We cut the warning tape.

 

2

My hair and your clavicle create

sweat. A pile of human

 

emotion. Duvet of human friction.

My electrons buzz at yours. I say,

 

I don’t want to reincarnate and have

to find you again.

 

3

We are dancing in a large barn

and this is ephemeral. I say, I don’t want

 

to have to find you again. We fought

so hard this time. You twirl me.

 

Outside, lightning cracks. The field

an orange blaze.

 

4

I ask where you most want to

make love and you say, In this bright carnage.

 

You take my hand. The barn door

slams. And wind octupusing my hair.

 

Your mouth on mine as rain falls

and grass singes. Crows head for the sky.






 

Ode to a Parallel Universe in Which Any Body May Give Birth

 

I reach inside you, purple to wrist,

and yank the child out by her armpits.

 

You are a split plum. Heaving on rock.

The sky a bright ream of cotton.

 

I hand you the squalling, kicking

cub. Human cub dipped in red jelly.

 

Like this we are a kind of nut:

two shells guarding what grows.

 

We take her for runs in the olivine

grass. We snuffle. Smell fresh meat

 

together. And this is the only way

that I would want to do it. City-

 

less. Moon kissing skin. No concrete.

No bassinet. No coochie-cooing

 

gavels. Something feral on our terms.

A family scampering, unceasingly unstill.   

Catherine Kyle holds a Ph.D. in English from Western Michigan University. She teaches literature and composition at the College of Western Idaho and creative writing at The Cabin, a literary nonprofit. She is the author of the hybrid-genre collection Feral Domesticity (Robocup Press, 2014) and the poetry chapbooks Flotsam (Etched Press, 2015) and Gamer: A Role-Playing Poem (dancing girl press, 2015). She also helps run the Ghosts & Projectors poetry reading series. Her poetry, fiction, nonfiction, and graphic narratives have appeared in The Rumpus, Superstition Review, WomenArts Quarterly, and elsewhere. She has received awards for her writing from the Idaho Commission on the Arts and other organizations. You can learn more about her at www.catherinebaileykyle.com.

 

© 2017 MILK JOURNAL

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