Sara Peck
TUESDAY
add an ocean we’d be
dear
Tuesday
this morning
makes me splinter
add we’d be
single-spaced troublesome
saying goodbye in hallways
somehow together
making toast
how (did) I want
a hand in your
going
home like a campfire
sleep in this something marvelous
(here) my throat
*
in the kitchen
what if I love
the wrong thing
the most morning (I know) versus
this afternoon
the hummingbird (yes, needs) to discuss
we missed the summer again
if one were to draw up a line graph of absence
there would be a
vacation in the fall
there’s the dream I’m
on the el tracks somewhere
someone with intensity is there
maybe it’s you say these train
tracks are mine
*
there is a year
the biggest star my mouth
you lie wide minutes
you lay (all ways) sideways
traffic you weathered
the rain but there’s nowhere empty
to put it
ILLINOIS WHAT PRICE WATER
get back there is the dirt not giving
it won’t feed you I am using
my door as a boat now
we teach our chests still alive
you break my ears there are too
many goddamn branches
about stubble my nose a sun
peel I want to live with
in the nettles we found
your mistaken faith sticks
with the best parts of lying
down leaking I learn to be the hollow
sound in a too big rain
the dirt you are crying where
Sara Peck is living in Charleston, South Carolina, where she sells used books, swims in the dark, and writes poems with middle schoolers on an island. She received an MFA a year ago. She is published or forthcoming with OmniVerse, Everyday Genius, and Versal, among others.