This selection, chosen by Guest Curator H.V. Cramond, is from The Water Cycle by Variant Lit in 2022.
One-by-one bobbing away while I manned the lifeboat,
patching another hole with torn dresses & spit. Outside,
the woods are quiet: hummingbirds & cardinals vanished
when a certain light entered the atmosphere, something cold-
toothed, the leaves still green but shadowed. When the phone
rings at 4 am I know there is no sunshine on the other side.
The tide is rising, inch-by-inch, my children say I forgot to pack
clean socks, can you help me find my keys, they say why am I
always afraid. My face in a puddle of water in the parking lot, I see
all the ways I let them almost drown. I mail rolls of duct tape
& swimming manuals, I tighten my own noose. If they are
still alive when I die, they will find all their monsters floating
in jars, hidden beneath my bed.
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