A Poem By Amy King

by Mark Bibbins, Editor

Remedios in Relief

The eggs fill up the space
reserved for my fever.
I wait for you in this kitchen,
bread in mind,
hand to you,
exorcising an evil eye
the morning you approach.
Blackbirds etch over
bones rising with river,
speaking this green tequila
on the table,
before your knock.
We tame this whorish water,
you with your stellar self.
That busy neighbor stops,
tells me magic holds
no harbor here.
The sweltering wool
of summer wind
pushes, tears a sleeve
from her dress,
her ghost wincing,
she does not notice
your entrance in
the peacock dream of music.

Amy King’s latest is I Want to Make You Safe (Litmus Press). She works with VIDA, Esque Magazine, and SUNY NCC.

Image: Leonora Carrington: Friday, oil on canvas, 1978

Yeah, we have more poems. A lot more poems. Right here, inThe Poetry Section’s archive.

You may contact the editor at poems@theawl.com.