Rachel Canzoneri
"dearly departed"
at what point does the human body decide
it is no more?
“I’m drowning” it says, “I can’t keep up” it says,
my fingers ache like I’ve been
dragging my coffin around, like I’ve been clawing
through the wood and the earth.
days like this I can’t help but wonder
if people will ever look at me,
America’s favorite tourist attraction, the people’s
most beloved autopsy,
and if they will think:
this is the world’s most hollow cave,
the world’s densest shadow.
my breath, no longer
fire out of my nostrils like a dragon,
now quiet, submissive.
I once held the world high like a champagne glass
I was once benevolent,
now I sit in the bottom of the gallows
my eyelids drooping like a capsized ship
down with the ship, down with the ship
voice like a clogged gutter
ashen gray, coals outlining my throat
fireplace in my chest out of order
skin disintegrating like a snake,
brittle, brittle bone;
dearly beloved, now dearly departed
ultimately I am exhausted,
ultimately I am done.
at what point does the human body decide
it is no more?
“I’m drowning” it says, “I can’t keep up” it says,
my fingers ache like I’ve been
dragging my coffin around, like I’ve been clawing
through the wood and the earth.
days like this I can’t help but wonder
if people will ever look at me,
America’s favorite tourist attraction, the people’s
most beloved autopsy,
and if they will think:
this is the world’s most hollow cave,
the world’s densest shadow.
my breath, no longer
fire out of my nostrils like a dragon,
now quiet, submissive.
I once held the world high like a champagne glass
I was once benevolent,
now I sit in the bottom of the gallows
my eyelids drooping like a capsized ship
down with the ship, down with the ship
voice like a clogged gutter
ashen gray, coals outlining my throat
fireplace in my chest out of order
skin disintegrating like a snake,
brittle, brittle bone;
dearly beloved, now dearly departed
ultimately I am exhausted,
ultimately I am done.
"The Smilodon"
I am the strongest of my kind;
swift and cunning as a river,
charging across the land
as if there were lava under my feet,
yet jumping lightly,
as if landing on top of lilypads,
and no, I am not gentle like lilypads.
I am the strongest of my kind,
I am the first and last of my kind;
I bear fangs like elephant tusks,
sturdy and aggressive,
and no, not passive aggressive
like serpents
for I am not silent like serpents,
my very skin is fire under the sun
like a cheetah,
though I promise I am more than just a cheetah.
I am the strongest of my kind,
I am the first and last of my kind,
I am one of a kind,
and no, I did not say my kind is extinct
I am saying there is me and there is only me;
for I am ever stalking my prey,
crouched down behind the grass
my sheath like war paint, my roar
a battle horn.
I am the most feared carnivore,
and yes, I mean that
animals bow before me
I, the fierce nobility that walks among the trees.
no, I am not sweet and I am not kind;
I do not rule with an iron fist,
but with a claw shrouded in armor
and eyes like melting copper,
and no, do not call me a leopard
for though I am passion and I am heat
I am not a leopard,
and no, that does not make me an alligator
though wicked and cruel I may be,
I am more than a heavy shadow,
nor am I a lion,
for I am as wise as a tree that has
been rooted through years of war,
and yes, I am the dinosaur’s bane,
for I am as old as they are;
I am the warrior of all warriors,
I am a Saber-Tooth Tiger,
I am The Smilodon.
I am the strongest of my kind;
swift and cunning as a river,
charging across the land
as if there were lava under my feet,
yet jumping lightly,
as if landing on top of lilypads,
and no, I am not gentle like lilypads.
I am the strongest of my kind,
I am the first and last of my kind;
I bear fangs like elephant tusks,
sturdy and aggressive,
and no, not passive aggressive
like serpents
for I am not silent like serpents,
my very skin is fire under the sun
like a cheetah,
though I promise I am more than just a cheetah.
I am the strongest of my kind,
I am the first and last of my kind,
I am one of a kind,
and no, I did not say my kind is extinct
I am saying there is me and there is only me;
for I am ever stalking my prey,
crouched down behind the grass
my sheath like war paint, my roar
a battle horn.
I am the most feared carnivore,
and yes, I mean that
animals bow before me
I, the fierce nobility that walks among the trees.
no, I am not sweet and I am not kind;
I do not rule with an iron fist,
but with a claw shrouded in armor
and eyes like melting copper,
and no, do not call me a leopard
for though I am passion and I am heat
I am not a leopard,
and no, that does not make me an alligator
though wicked and cruel I may be,
I am more than a heavy shadow,
nor am I a lion,
for I am as wise as a tree that has
been rooted through years of war,
and yes, I am the dinosaur’s bane,
for I am as old as they are;
I am the warrior of all warriors,
I am a Saber-Tooth Tiger,
I am The Smilodon.
"to the killers of things"
alright, it’s time you finally learned
you keep going down this road
and your heart is still
made from the cracks running
down the aged asphalt
when will you learn when will you learn
you can’t let someone be a reason
for driving at night with your headlights off,
you have roots running under your feet
and therefore you are a part of this earth
the flowers engulfing your feet like sand
your hands cupped like rose petals
your veins vines
transporting the ever growing power through you.
someone cruel once might have told you
you always make mountains out of ant hills
and you say damn right I have I made that mountain
and I’ll move it too,
oh you powerful being you.
they say glory and gore go hand in hand
and, you know, they just might be right
there’s nothing poetic about a sledgehammer
no matter how many metaphors it’s wearing
but that doesn’t mean you’ll never need it,
there’s nothing mysterious about breaking words
and tying them up in a ribbon of vowels or singing them like a simile
but that doesn’t imply it’ll never happen to you
that doesn’t imply you’ll never do it.
I guess what I’m trying to say is
there are dead streetlights lining block after block,
there are cracks in the asphalt
and there always will be,
so you grab a flashlight and you brave the dark
with your roots planted under
because that’s really all you need.
alright, it’s time you finally learned
you keep going down this road
and your heart is still
made from the cracks running
down the aged asphalt
when will you learn when will you learn
you can’t let someone be a reason
for driving at night with your headlights off,
you have roots running under your feet
and therefore you are a part of this earth
the flowers engulfing your feet like sand
your hands cupped like rose petals
your veins vines
transporting the ever growing power through you.
someone cruel once might have told you
you always make mountains out of ant hills
and you say damn right I have I made that mountain
and I’ll move it too,
oh you powerful being you.
they say glory and gore go hand in hand
and, you know, they just might be right
there’s nothing poetic about a sledgehammer
no matter how many metaphors it’s wearing
but that doesn’t mean you’ll never need it,
there’s nothing mysterious about breaking words
and tying them up in a ribbon of vowels or singing them like a simile
but that doesn’t imply it’ll never happen to you
that doesn’t imply you’ll never do it.
I guess what I’m trying to say is
there are dead streetlights lining block after block,
there are cracks in the asphalt
and there always will be,
so you grab a flashlight and you brave the dark
with your roots planted under
because that’s really all you need.