Leave me alone

                                     With nothing          but the slurry of an organ
                                                        maybe      a lake     to
                                                  dip my feet in     money
                                            trees to pick my fruit from
                                                     a mini fridge

to keep         it all fresh while

                                                    I lie             on my back
threatening to throw         all my stuff             away for good
let it wilt into my body        of water                every better thing
that don’t involve ideals
                   of better things                    I’ll never have
                                                                     a sanctuary for

From The Collection Plate: Poems by Kendra Allen. Copyright © 2021 by Kendra Allen. Reprinted by permission of Ecco, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.