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.