what muse sings for the girl who carries her body
like a vial of graveyard dirt dug out of her own tomb
strung from a chain around her neck?
i. weight is more than mass and gravity
the half empty gallon of milk expires the same day
as her birthday; she’s not sure she has faith either
of them will make it till then, but her grocery list is
just the staples: bread & wine & toothpaste.
she forgoes the first and last.
ii. ginger sprouts between her teeth & she likes it
and she’s got time for her mother and she’s got time for
the sweet old lady who runs the till next to hers and flips
through her coupon book twice to make sure she didn’t
miss anything and she’s got time to indulge her aching
femurs, on occasion; please, don’t ask her to give more
iii. the future stretches forward; more threat than promise
please muses, can’t you spare some stray thought for
icarus born a girl, not lovesick for the sun just desperate
to get her feet off the ground in a world where melted
wax is every daughter’s birthright & her lily bones were
built to crest the waves
iv. still, the fall has always been worth the flight
kmp is a southern californian poet and aspiring lit major work two jobs to put herself through college. she wants to know everything, feel everything, be everything; she won’t settle for less. kmp has recently had poetry published in The Wall and the Spring edition of Werkloos, “In Limbo,” as well as in her chapbooks “UNBOUND” and “Ask Me a Question//I’ll Write You a Poem.”