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CRYING IN PUBLIC Ciara Cagemoe
My waterlogged absurdly complicated thoughts are sea shanty knotted together and straddled with wet woolen clothes or maybe a whole unshorn sheep that weight a chorus of strong knuckled grips they drag down and anchor sink dip I can feel a kicking, fetus-like discomfort red-angry in my stomach now it tingles in wave pool increments through my arms too. Vivid purple blue and shiny african violet bruises on my eyelids tells of anxious brain meanderings through a sink-holed Florida subconscious I’m all oversaturated limestone and humid funk nose, ears, especially search-strained eyes, now leaky roof orifices that drip drip drum tear-shaped sorts of drops drops drops I should carry a bucket with me to collect the liquid too-much much much
