The Brazen Raisin: If I Should Have a Daughter by Sarah Kay
I don't remember, any more, The exact shape of your handsAs I held them in mine, Caressed them, Memorized the length of your fingers, The depth of your calluses. I don't remember, any more,Exactly your height, how muchTaller than meYou were, whereMy head rested on your chestWhen you held me tightly close. I don't remember, any more, Your scent, when we lay togetherCreating our ownMagic rhythm, Matching our heartbeats as weTouched the sky, together. I don't remember, any more, The sound of your voice, calling My name as thoughIt were a song Within itself, a precious treasure You valued with all your being. And I don't remember, any more, The color of your eyes, the shapeOf your lips, Only...How your eyes crinkled at the cornersAnd your laugh, as you told me, "I love you."
In this poem, disaster strangely invades the ordinary. A man standing at the bus stop reading the newspaper is on fire Flames are peeking out from beneath his collar and cuffs His shoes have begun to melt The woman next to him wants to mention it to him that he is burning but she is drowning Water is everywhere in her mouth and ears in her eyes A stream of water runs steadily from her blouse Another woman stands at the bus stop freezing to death She tries to stand near the man who is on fire to try to melt the icicles that have formed on her eyelashes and on her nostrils to stop her teeth long enough from chattering to say something to the woman who is drowning but the woman who is freezing to death has trouble moving with blocks of ice on her feet