Thea Brown

VACATION POPSICLE

O my elbow, held on. O my glen shimmer,
My slender gin fizzled out, O yesterday, O
Another day, O a stomach bug, a blank
Tug of attention or sickness, O peace, O
Mint and raspberries, O aloe, O alone my
Refusals, adrip this ice, O effrontery, iced
Coffee, O exit, O my invasive acumen, O
Hold my half-caff hand, unjeweled and
Feverish, O yesterday, O illness a pause, O
Again and, O little bird, bitten.

UNRULY

It’s both raining and Wednesday, and I am unruly.
You’re no longer cooking fatty breakfasts, she’s
Asleep under the widest window, and he’s a mess.
Clay for walking, for pressing our knuckles into.
Cracker crumbs for everywhere, tiny awarenesses
Of shifts in the polling, dew points, impending
Weeks of hibiscus indoors. Dropped leaves
Tapping, filthy tile, just some dirt, cheap beer.
I meant never to shift the you, the way you and I
Become interchangeable in a poem. It’s all
Mine or theirs or yours. A carousel ditty that’s less
Than ours. I’m harrowing, diluting myself toward rest.
First thin sun through warped panes. Warming
The distance between this life and the next.

DISSATISFACTION WITH THE OVERALL TREAT

I feel fast am I fast I am amn’t I instead a
Marshy go-go despite my cheap factory
Linen my office park potted grocery jade
Winks and chars easier in magnified window
Sun than the bite-size pretty cactus you handed
Me when I landed this semipermanent
Position at the company so quickly so slowly
My little ants who portage their jingles are so sad
When their oversize hearts finally break down

Thea Brown is the author of three collections of poetry, most recently Loner Forensics (Northwestern University Press 2023). Her poems can be found in Action, Spectacle, River Styx, Oversound, Iowa Review, LitHub, and elsewhere. She lives in Baltimore and teaches creative writing at the George Washington University.