I woke up at two
To read the news and brush my teeth. 
They tasted like whiskey and cherries. 
Sitting on the toilet lid,
I contemplate how far
One can run

But I’ve just planted seeds. 

Yesterday I planted seeds,
Raked the leaves into a blanket,
Made a tender spot 
Between my thumb and my palm. 
Now, I chew a raised mound 
Into my lip, compel the blood 
To the surface. 

I didn’t know what to say
Before
Or now
Or after. 
So I offer up a madlib of wrong condolences,
A book read on grief and sadness. 
A numbing agent. 

Zeno said he made a prosperous voyage
After suffering a shipwreck,
But more often than not
Most of us just sink. 
Most of us just freeze 
Because there aren’t enough lifeboats 
When we build things for the rich. 

I try again: to keep my chin up.
I return to my lip. 
My daughter runs,
Her chin up,
Trips, catches herself with her nose. 
Blood is compelled to our surfaces. 
It has started to taste
Like whiskey and cherries. 

If Only We Let Them

One time my friend set me up
With a man/boy/bag of bones
Who bragged that his grandmother 
Never had a license. 

He called our friend cute
As she drove us through the city -
It was so cute how 
He let her drive
When they were together. 

I used my tongue in the backseat
To bore a hole into my tooth
So the venom I store beneath my eyes
Would have an outlet. 

Another time, a muppet man
Who had more money than we could know
What to do with 
Told me I seemed like such a feminist 
He’d let me split the check. 

All before that, 
The man with the platinum ring
Told me he’d never let me save myself
Only because he knew how to do it 
Better. 

I just needed to listen. 

I have these callouses on my hand
From where I grip the steering wheel,
More freckles on my left arm,
But I crawl into the passenger seat now
As a respite not restraint. 
My husband works to buy me takeout
Which I eat at the kitchen counter
Before I do all the dishes;
Is my feminism something 
That can be cutely cut,
Like a cake?

She told me, on her way out,
That she doesn’t eat octopus and I agree:
They’re so intelligent.
I’m sure that’s why some men seek them out,
Never knowing more than 5% 
Of the ocean they come from. 

I imagine my feminism flailing from my body, 
Tentacles you have to keep your eye on - 
Who knows what they could grab,
Who knows what venom they hold, 
Who knows what they could achieve,
We say, if only 
We let them.