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.

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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