[th(e)reat] → siege engine

                                in my own body ← here i am a siege
                                overthrowing a home where no one lives
                                but me. i’m too big for my too big head
                                too barely anything for want, my love
                                built me from a nail in the wall galloped
                                to meet the socks on the floor → now a hole
                                in the wall i would peek thru & run some
                                cable thru so we all could watch cable.
                   now, there’s a good amount of good reasons
                   why no one lives here, no one lives with me.
                   my cat even tries to leave. he jumps out
                   the window, off the roof, & waits for me
                   to catch him with the neighbors. & i too
                   trynna be beautiful & loved this way.

i  ←  suppose: perching for life to begin
is this flatline moving me, failed, forward,
feathered closer to grace each time; going
mother after mother i wake up as
a dove picking lilies from her black i
suppose i love so i know i ain’t know
                brevity without withholding a breath  ←
                loved those flying ants,  infiltrating  thru  all  fronts’
                doors til i (w)as a room entered watching
                for  bites tender thicker  than all-time’s
                to consume ← consistency dragged → this long
                makes me  wanna bite bird feet  ← too   baby
                cat  i love you too,...   ache in my bones you
                remind me of  what is it(?) to be  picked ←

Credit

Copyright © 2020 by Trace Howard DePass. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on October 19, 2020, by the Academy of American Poets.

About this Poem

“On the afternoon after Jericho Brown won the Pulitzer, I wrote the first sonnet of this poem. In it, I’m asking ‘What is a contemporary siege engine? What are some of the castles perpetuating the moats of distance & disparity between us? If I am to circumvent a castle door, what am I bringing into that space? What am I leaving with? How will I imagine a new wor(l)d as I am so full of the sacrifices it took to get to only another question?’ I use parentheses in my poems to add 1-3 letters to a word making it another word, thus a slightly different world, so I encourage you to literally read then say one word following the other; you also have the option to choose one in my quick, abrupt, urgent parenthetical word.”
—Trace Howard DePass