Not True But Not Not
How to bear the slithering creature
of memory that slops forward in traffic and groceries
and other blue-gray occasions? Here I am
in the awe of my life. And here at a moist land with a mouth
in my hands. I dip in
and out of the trunk I keep as nostalgia. I reimagine
how we slouched beside the hydrangeas.
We were back then so much
like humans, lunging at life and not starting
to panic. We were multiple
couches chasing at windows. Each day was an act
of two landscapes. I was made to notice grim elders, deranged
trinkets. The air is the same. I climb in. Yesterday,
I stood on the clad landmark
of parents and turned back to the song that wanted me
to escape. Syllables sloshed in the meantime. The sky
wept its gaze. The first time I wanted to leave I wanted to be left
alone. Where I come from
is cajoling. A storm is about to begin. Here I am, cupped in
what is never an answer.
of memory that slops forward in traffic and groceries
and other blue-gray occasions? Here I am
in the awe of my life. And here at a moist land with a mouth
in my hands. I dip in
and out of the trunk I keep as nostalgia. I reimagine
how we slouched beside the hydrangeas.
We were back then so much
like humans, lunging at life and not starting
to panic. We were multiple
couches chasing at windows. Each day was an act
of two landscapes. I was made to notice grim elders, deranged
trinkets. The air is the same. I climb in. Yesterday,
I stood on the clad landmark
of parents and turned back to the song that wanted me
to escape. Syllables sloshed in the meantime. The sky
wept its gaze. The first time I wanted to leave I wanted to be left
alone. Where I come from
is cajoling. A storm is about to begin. Here I am, cupped in
what is never an answer.
Lauren Camp is the author of An Eye in Each Square (River River Books, 2023) and Worn Smooth between Devourings (NYQ Books, 2023), among other titles. She currently serves as Poet Laureate of New Mexico. www.laurencamp.com
I began this piece after a reunion with my siblings that included time at the cemetery where my parents are buried and a visit to the street where we grew up.
I began this piece after a reunion with my siblings that included time at the cemetery where my parents are buried and a visit to the street where we grew up.