Poem of the Day
Study of Children
By Asha Futterman
did you know
that you all work for me?
I asked them as a joke
did you know
that you all work for me?
I asked them as a joke
My enemy keeps
a bowl of anemones
on my bedside table
When you pressed two rings,
the one larger than the other,
into my tongue, you crushed my hunger.
Somewhere between Norway and Ireland
volcanic rocks and glaciers leap from the sea
My map has failed me, I’m there
The ruin we made of our garden
Is confusing even today.
Seven trees times three
Skeletal kin
tilt
italic lunacy
Stand up facing the wall, chair behind you. Not feet splayed outward, you cannot go that low
That future life, slept in the anemic sunlight
While the old poison slowly filled my whole
bloodstream.
In the palace, at the table set for the feast, they were
awaited
My sponge
fresh out of her cellophane
A starlet, unintroduced to my kitchen’s ways
“I’m looking forward to my death,” she said.
I sat upright. I watched her blond hair sway,
this college girl who taught our Sunday School.