Day 7: Elemental, Earth
So I failed today, everyone. And so.
Instead of posting no poem today, I’m posting an old one. But I have an ulterior motive: This is one of a collection of poems called ‘Elemental’, that I created for a course in my MFA program, back when it was ostensibly poetry I was studying (that’s another weird story).
One poem per element. And we were required to self-publish them in some way, make them into a little monograph or booklet or some such. So. Here’s the poem, the poem as it appeared in the publication (just in case the line breaks go wonky in the Substack format), and the cover of my old-ass copy of the booklet.
Mine
-
A ring through each nipple—amethyst sparks firelight:
One, two. Treasure chest—ha.
(“penetrate the open ear,” she teases and makes me
juicy with chill)
Don’t notice myself, too much of her skim
moonstone in safe navel. Treasure.
-
He can keep each gem he finds
All steel standing on end, I hear myself
breathing, I melt out the middle his mouth
That slender waist of his, slender belly over my
fingers, I’ve dreamt of hooking my hands under his
belt, now I’m doing it am I awake where does he hide
his knife
-
Lucky thief alabaster moon milk goddess under my
hands cool and smooth I want to break her
apart
