By Rachael Katz
Something has to happen. Me,
I once halved a strawberry and set it
on ice. You mapped the
topography of a crushed paper bag.
There was rolling thunder then
like trucks for rent. I moved over
you in the afternoon, and
a book on heaven became heaven.
We have worn our blouses of burnt
toast into the emergency room like
we own the place. Remember
how gently I eased your arm
out of the beehive? Remember
that handful of honey? Still there
are days I ask you, Are these your
pantyhose on the stove? Is this
your haircut in the hall? The
floor is bubbling and too close.
It is the color of the news.
Let’s please put a stop to the on
and on. We have always been
our own eggs. I write one
hundred things very slowly. And
then I throw fireballs at them.
But you are the copper I
asked for. You are good clean water.
RACHAEL KATZ will be one of the featured poets at the next Silo City Reading Series event at 7 p.m. Aug. 8 at 100 Childs St. She has taught at the University of Massachusetts Amherst, and is currently a teaching artist at the Just Buffalo Writing Center. She is also developing a program for Western New York children with language-based learning disabilities in conjunction with the University at Buffalo. This poem is from her new chapbook “Any Berry You Like” published by iO Books.