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I was in a constellation

There were several gravitational pulls

Ophiuchus grasped his serpent

And we were his alternate arms

Or it was. I’m iffy on the denominators

There were magnets on the refrigerator

I lettered four-letter words with

And all the other entities laughed alongside me

And spoke English

And there were frequent moments of levity

Like when I sucked on a joint in a patch of Swiss chard

Recalling my Halloween costumes from 2004-on

Forking apple pie filling in my mouth

The moral error in everything

Affiliated with what I was saying

Assuming clarity

And then a sheen

So as I was saying

At this point Johannes interrupted me

Upstairs, a child was crying

Something horrible was happening

We had to rush back inside



Patty Nash is a poet and translator. Her work has appeared in jubilat, West Branch, Bennington Review, and elsewhere. Patty received her MFA in poetry at the Iowa Writers' Workshop and an MFA in literary translation from the University of Iowa. She lives in Berlin, Germany, where she is a member of the poetry collective Das Ad Hoc.
Current Issue
4 Nov 2024

“Did you know,” the witch says, “that a witch has no heart of her own?”
Outsiders, Off-worlders {how quickly one carves out a corner of the cosmos, / claims a singular celestial body as [o u r s] in the scope of infinity}
Lunar enby folks across here
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