Second Poem for Nexplanon
the snow melts off the roof and into the back alley
just as my period finally ends. the doctor
at planned parenthood had warned me about this:
it will start, and it will not stop. could be
a couple weeks, or a month. there will be spotting:
hungry freckles against cotton. there will be
heavy-flow: sword-swallowing and a flood
in the bathtub. there will be nativity: or so
the body thinks.
i did try to name every pair of ruined underwear
thank you. i asked every painkiller if it was
doing all right. but i can’t stop remembering
how the doctor at planned parenthood
called me smart as she shot the implant
into my left arm. i can’t stop picturing
the snow turning red. when i sleep,
every child the lawmakers say i am killing
becomes a winter storm, and they give
each one my name.
By Lydia Havens
Lydia Havens is a poet and editor currently living in Boise, Idaho. Her work has previously been published or is forthcoming in Winter Tangerine, Cosmonauts Avenue, and Black Napkin Press, among others. Videos of her spoken word performances have been published on YouTube channels such as Button Poetry and Write About Now. Her first full-length collection, Survive Like the Water, was published in early 2017 by Rising Phoenix Press. Lydia currently works for Big Tree Arts Inc., and is a member of Boise’s 2017 National Poetry Slam team. She really likes exclamation points and lizards.