Swat
Walking through a cloud of gnats,
I cough, shield my face from the bugs
as if blocking the sun.
I breathe one in, maybe two,
swat them from my mind
while swallowing.
It is awful how they die in my mouth.
To them, I am a natural disaster.
When we need to unmake experience,
we try to revise it.
Inadvertently, we return
to all small shames.
Our destructions come fluttering back
as soon as we call them,
they are that obedient to us.
Love this, Hannah. I have felt the same way, horrified by the inadvertent horror I have caused...and simultaneously annoyed by swallowing gnats.
ReplyDeleteExcellent poem, Hannah.
ReplyDeleteAssociating the breathing in with "swat them from my mind / while swallowing" is striking. How true those final lines!
Another stunner. Those last lines are haunting.
ReplyDeleteI often think of what the poor suckers are thinking with the few brain cells they have...I need to think of revising and unmaking experiences...hmmm...requires thought! xoxo
ReplyDeleteFrom Therese L. Broderick -- Insecticide! Gnaticide! I really enjoyed this poem. AND I really enjoyed the artwork which inspired it. BRILLIANT column/statue of recycled "swatters." Something any housewife -- like me -- could assemble (although not nearly as delightfully as this artist, of course).
ReplyDeleteSecond on the last lines. Spot.On. You have such a way about describing the uncomfortable, and making our innermost icky feelings beautiful and palatable and manageable.
ReplyDeleteSecond on the last lines. Spot.On. You have such a way about describing the uncomfortable, and making our innermost icky feelings beautiful and palatable and manageable.
ReplyDeleteI feel itchy now. Don't you just hate it when gnats fly in your mouth?
ReplyDeleteTo me, gnats are a natural disaster! LOL! On the hiking trail, when the bugs are bad, I yell. My husband has gotten used to my noises. But he finally bought me a head net.
ReplyDeleteNo. Of course, I haven't used it yet.