My lungs have drowned in fluid–
I can’t stop coughing. Who am I
to survive in all this death
and pollution? Land-dweller, ill-
fitted? The sea regurgitates
its dead– whales on white sand
shores, fish entwined in kelp.
The old organisms– from where
we began– return to land,
beg us to let them walk.
(originally published in Freshwater Review, Spring 2020)
I binge-take extra-strength cough
drops with gooey menthol centers
having come home from Thanksgiving
earlier than expected
temperatures in the 30s
a shrill turn in the wind
no one outside
but to yell at dogs
men summoning phlegm
hack away at progress
here I sit
alone loudly
perched against white
pillows dry-throated
the medicine kicks in
allows me to speak up
to silence the wall’s tongue
a quiet my body loves
(originally published in Hamline Lit Link, 2018)