"Brimful"
"Brimful" was published today by Egg Poetry! Egg poetry sends out a weekly email with one poem to contemplate during the week; the email has come, but the archive hasn't been updated yet. When it does, I will post the link on the blog.
The experience with Egg has been marvelous for my first poem published by a wholly-online publication. After submitting my poem, within a week the editor had already contacted me about publishing. And two days later, my poem appeared in Egg. As simple as that. I would that a tenth of all my submitted poems underwent an experience like this.
The experience with Egg has been marvelous for my first poem published by a wholly-online publication. After submitting my poem, within a week the editor had already contacted me about publishing. And two days later, my poem appeared in Egg. As simple as that. I would that a tenth of all my submitted poems underwent an experience like this.
Callum and Adelee
Callum and Adelee
Leaving a trail behind it, the universe rolls to a
stop in the dirt.
An orange, a lopsided memory from childhood
Now lies between them. They stand between buildings
Crumbling down, a decrepit wasteland. Callum
Wipes threads of sweat from his forehead. No tears
Fall during this draining, reeling, thirsty battle.
It hadn’t been too many years since a battle
Ravaged the city, turning it into a universe of
dirt,
Dry, dusty, parched. The new world, baptized in
dirt, tears
Families apart, negates bonds formed in earliest
childhood.
Adelee, born two minutes before her brother Callum,
With club in hand now stands in front of the old
hospital building.
They are undone in front of an orange instead of
building
Shelters, moving on, struggling in the new battle
For survival, to remain intact. In a sudden passion
Callum
Pushes Adelee down, rolling her hard down into the
dirt
Like they once did in the sandbox, playgrounds.
Childhood
Was so long ago – not in hours, but in number of
tears.
A long ago morning, delight so hard they dissolve in
tears.
Brother and sister each hold one orange. The
tenement building
Is warm today, mirthful, happy, for childhood
Makes everything right. Each sucking an orange, they
battle
Together his wood truck, her cloth dinosaur. No dirt
Gathers in the cracks of the toys of Adelee and
Callum.
She doesn’t rise; he seizes the time. Punch, punch,
Callum’s
Fist is relentless and holds no gentle touch now.
Tears
Spring to her eyes, her cheeks. Her face, bloodying the
dirt,
Is crumpled, lopsided like the orange. Across the
ground the building
Stares emptily, lights gone out. It’s over, her
battle,
And she lays to rest his claims to their childhood.
The memories are draining with the blood, of a
childhood
In which an orange was a universe. Callum
Bites into its curve, spoils of this last and final
battle.
Nothing ever tasted so wet and bitter, so empty of
desire. Tears
Now fall through the air onto the dusty ground.
Buildings
Offer no shelter from the blood and water that
quenches the dirt.
The final battle over, no more desire, no more tears
In their family. One day, Callum and the buildings
Will tumble, just like Adelee and their childhood,
into the dirt.
All for an orange – what used to be a universe.
This poem originally appeared in the Scripps College Journal, Spring 2012.
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