This week, three new poems by Carol Potter.
ZUCCHINI
napkin thrown down on the floor
an ending of sorts Saturday dinner on the table
walking out each door you in your socks out front me in back
zucchini with the knife stuck in it
yours I said there’s the knife with the butter on it
me in the chair out back the stars I stared up at
I keep thinking I ought to know their names
at them my whole life ought to be able to discern
Big Dipper from little shield of Achilles from dog of the world
barking in the sky
in its pool of cold butter smell of apples we’d piled
in the corner of the yard green gnarly tart apples
you on the front step
me in the back
sweet stink of apple in the dark and the bees that eat them
IF BEES EAT
green apples
if you can say that bees eat gouges in the apples
4-5 bees in each gouge the sap loosened
sweet all over the ground
yellow wings
those small mouths buzzing
the ground has a throat of sweet
and it’s humming around your feet
put some shoes on I tell you the mound of apples
falling as we speak we can’t keep up with it the apples
that red bird singing
LATER
you speak of the apples
how many there were
like marbles underfoot but intermittently soft
what they stank of
in the sunlight all the yellow jackets digging into the gnarled flesh
nothing anyone could eat the dull plop
on our skin, the cicadas
——
CAROL POTTER‘s fourth book of poems, Otherwise Obedient (Red Hen Press, 2007), was a finalist for the Lambda Literary Award in Lesbian poetry. Her book Short History of Pets won the 1999 Cleveland State Poetry Center Award, and the Balcones Award. Previous books are Upside Down in the Dark, 1995, and Before We Were Born, 1990–both from Alice James Books. Her poems have appeared in Field, Poetry, The American Poetry Review, Prairie Schooner and many other journals and anthologies.