by Lauren Bender
Don’t tell me
there are people
in this room;
I can see them
but that does not
mean they exist.
My sweater sleeve
is mouth-soaked
with the fear
of swallowing.
I am on a mission
to be small
with furtive eyes
like any animal
with suspicions,
pricking its ears
to the distant sobs
in the hills, angry
in anticipation of
being hunted. Then
angry I never am.
The Iliad is long
and lonely, an ideal
cover for learning
to love one’s isolation.
Sometimes there is only
war, but it’s war
preserved in poetry,
which makes it easier
to murmur on, to fail
to hear the moments
no heart is pounding
or see how the jungle
never misses me, how
others simply take more
space when I am gone.
&
Lauren Bender
Lauren Bender lives in Burlington, VT. Her work has appeared in IDK Magazine, The Collapsar, Gyroscope Review, Pittsburgh Poetry Review, Yes Poetry, and others.
Artist: Fabio Sassi