At the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art When I take her daughter onto my hip in the Egypt room, my cousin says babies are the best tour guides if we will only follow their eyes to the dizzying spread of ceiling tiles, thin, needle-sharp arms of lights straining to us, the nearby slope of some woman’s neck, the warmth in her pale hands. And in the gift shop, a tiny water wheel turns and turns and turns. Her baby rejects my two offered fingers in favor of her own palm. She is everything she needs.
Mass Shooting i go to Lucille Clifton again, to “the times.” on my bed in a chiffon dress, soft to the floor, i eat chocolate-covered pomegranate. the body can feel good things too. we can make a home here. ear buds without music muffle even the silence. i am so full and so hungry. i eat in the bath. i almost text my ex. i am lonelier than i can ever remember feeling. i collage. i want to finish, push, make something. so I make myself stop. feelings just have to be felt. it is hard to remain human but we are, and i am.
Assistant Editor Katelyn Roth has a master’s in poetry from Pittsburg State University in Kansas. Her work has previously appeared online at Silver Birch Press, in Apeiron Review, and at Heartland: Poems of Love, Resistance, and Solidarity. Currently, she lives in Columbus, Ohio where she is an MFA candidate at Ohio State University.
The Coop: A Poetry Cooperative 