Poetry
fat stick
By Zhi Yi Cham
29 May, 2020
Zhi Yi Cham is Running Dog’s poet in residence for April and May.
Each month, a poet produces new work, which is distributed via Running Dog’s monthly newsletter—Stray. If you haven’t already, sign up to our newsletter.
• • •
after Farnoush Parsiavashi, Hannah De Feyter, Cathy Petocz
teapot of flowers on her porch
when i picked it up the warmth of her hand
is still present that heat
i carry with me everywhere
i don’t know how it feels until i feel it
and when i feel it, i feel it all
is a poem a net, the way Excel catches everything
or patient fishing by rod
like watching a fire build, the poker navigating its hearth
the big one isn’t catching
chuck the fat stick in
no that is weakness
like going very quiet and hearing just the fire; rumbling rumbling crackling
like writing love notes to yourself at a hang
like being present and not
like salting the sheets of a friend
like body an ocean
like body a ship
like fogging over glasses with the hearth of you
like finding evidence of life by conjurance of poem whilst dissolving
it is so rude to leave your tears on someone else’s sheets in a pandemic
in fact it could be life threatening
maybe love is willing to risk it all including your life
trust that they trust you to keep them safe
this sounds like presumption
is love presumption
the thing is no one will hold me the way i want to be held
like many things that do not require definition
that do not require diagnosis
like poetry
like many things
it didn’t happen that way
like trusting yourself like
the big one catching when you look away
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