英文诗词Raw Goods Inventory

Raw Goods Inventory

by Emily Rosko

Oh， clouds that do not look like cherubs， move over！ My heart

isn‘t big enough to include you. The crows shit on

my car every morning， such

gratuitous little fellows—the things I never asked for. Oh， unrecognized

genius， the modest beauty wasting from

illness， the good-kid-turned-bad. Failing

grade， summer heat. Oh， row of desks I loathed sitting at. In

school， we hatched chickens from an incubator， eggs

in rotation， the chicks deformed. One

with thin chest skin and no ribs—the organs sludged

and its cheep-cheep cries. The animals my mother made me

return—the rabbit， the toad， the slug. Oh， child

tossing a ball alone！ The dandelions are systematically doused

with chemicals—the chemicals you‘ll sniff

as a teenager， the brain the unrepining side-kick.

Dear sister whom I cannot relate to， I surrendered my popsicles

to you！ Friend who kept my videotapes. Ex-lover，

you fall so clumsily through old poems. Book， you

looked better on the shelf！ Oh， the philomaths are paraphrasing

other people‘s theories， the same dribble！ Numbers and words，

teleological trinkets that can‘t retain the world. Over

a thousand monarchs frost-nipped in Mexico—untranslatable

odor. Oh， sex-drive that won‘t be active forever！ Oh，

old woman I will someday become！ Take stock now， I say， use

your flexibility. Stomach stay flat， breasts don‘t droop any time

soon. Oh， body， you were once small

and resilient—you could shimmy through

tight places. Mind， you were sparked； heart， uninjured. I am

such a thing. Lazy day. Oh， wizened hickory，

I too grow out of myself.