Stevie Belchak
There Are Two Possible Ends, Both Are True
What do you know
I've added a new address
I've got a mystery discount
The perfect (pink) pant does exist!
My therapist sends me a winky emoji
When I cry
Watching a video of my baby
I say look! at the little songbird
And my baby walks to the screen door
And looks
This is how
I will kill myself
Facing away from everyone
Night all over my hands
Missing her
Believe it or not
I have rehearsed
Getting better
Wouldn't it be wonderful?
Breasts hanging down like infinite eggs
Light edging in
A white cloud that was always a white cloud
I tell a friend and the friend says that's great
Stabbing my eye with a pencil
To be pretty
Searching for my body amongst the general whole
A. says listening to the birds chirping helps
Also, natural light
Petting the fur
Of a cat
I walk to a beautiful edifice of white
And then I walk back
Some things never change
A prince is arrested
There is a hero of a book
At the feet of a pink-and-purple streamered tricycle
I weep for my body
In my body
The internet says
What the answer is
Kiss My Forehead, Wish Me Luck
when someone says I’m going out on a limb to talk about attention and creativity and
reciprocal inspiration
when the yellow-thighed finch on your terrace sings
and it is so yellow
and singing
when there is a radio and the radio puts out a constant river
when at the heart of the big red nebula
you’ll have to dig yourself out
in the cap sleeves of your blouse
when hail, rain
when in a field a laboring cow
when a small pink flower
when you say your one life’s regret was to bend your neck
into boucle sold with a teddy-like texture
when you are loyal,
not truthful
when you want the thing and the thing the thing does
the flowers to flower
the dawn to dawn
the storm to storm
putting tiny plastic unicorns into tiny plastic cups in perpetuity
when mesmer
when glittering shale
when late as it is
when early like morning
when like a kiss
dying
when you clasp your baby’s hands when she sleeps, desperate
when you shut your eyelids to feel less
floating
when you think of the hospice patient who sees a red convertible outside his window
and says he is ready for his ride
then dies moments later
when this poem about a man becomes a poem
about a window
when on the long walk home you take photos of your feet on Spanish tile
when corrugated metal meets modern slate and there is a single ornamental palm
when corrugated metal meets an archive of flowers
pink and coral bracts, their blooming
when you said a poem was about a man, then a window
but remembered simplicity is the most dangerous desire
when stating what is and what never was will always be easier
when the cost of childcare
when the cost of groceries
when the cost of driving
when the cost of aloe mist, rose quartz, ferulic acid
when the cost of being made of skin
ascendant sign wear the black blouse
trembling leaf tremble
the sun is setting
the moon is rising
it's incredible anyone makes it out alive
When the Cherry Blossoms Fall, My Baby Says, Oh No!
And Runs to and from All Over Their Pink
I watch videos of my baby running
when I am with her and she is not
running
I think what else is
inside
something oversized
something slim-fit
the tinned fish
a tray lined with parchment paper and buttered bread
dabbed in light
this is the way we inventory ruinous things
a minimal figure walking to the kitchen then walking back
using a scale
jingling bells
what if today I am done with my counting
what if the scene cut
to my ankles
I prefer to make art
from what?
fuschia lipstick
the snake in our yard
if you look closely
at the rectangle
you can see I am making
a thing inside the rectangle
time and myth
the cylindrical with very straight sides
where am I now?
zippered country jacket
watching a traveling family and the traveling family’s vlog
this is how life began:
a babydoll dress and green rain boots
crushed blue adderall
spinning around
never wanting a home
then there was only one tree
one time
the blossoms could die
and we said things like yes
and sure why not
and the birds were just
birds
Stevie Belchak is a poet and writer living in Costa Rica. An editor with blush lit, she is the author of Anna Delvey Swears She Didn't Dump Those Rabbits (blush), and Something Decidedly European (Press Brake, forthcoming).