Poem With Dysphoria and Nephew
Children love to fail because they are so good at it
My nephew: he will plan out meticulously
every curve of his train track
then destroy it to generate a new plan
He will survey the room the pieces of track
and say in his bright voice
shameless as the sun
Here’s what we’re gonna do
Each night I construct myself a self
I dream of the body I would stitch together
had I the pieces the way it would fit
like a ripe tomato or a wet slab of play
in the hands of others
and when the morning comes I am always exhausted
by my futile work always heavier always samefull
The plants know this struggle
Every tree works hard to birth its leaves
exactly right and still must forfeit
every effort no matter how fruitful
back to the earth in fall
Yes
Every spring is one long dream
for an oak
Becoming Delicate
Like all those before me, my teeth
fell from my mouth
as berries fall from the bush:
swollen begging
to be put between the lips
the barren lips. Finally, I thought
I can value the softness
of a thing. The Moon:
no longer
a stale crescent roll, a wheel
of hard cheese. At last, I can point to it
say
Look, the Banana!
I can I have permission to
relish
the smush of it
in my hand, be shocked
by the ease of that.
How simple now, to take
from the bastard sky.
No I do not miss it
my smile do not
crave that familiar curling.
Without my teeth to dam the river
of this my mouth
my lips are so quenched
so fuller than ever.
At last, I feel
as all those beforeme
asa redtulip
asaviciousbloom.
Alec Prevett has had several dreams in which their teeth fall out. Their recent poems are featured in or forthcoming from Hobart, The Shore, Redivider, and others. They are pursuing an MFA in fiction from Georgia State University.
Twitter: @alphabetbutgood
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