Nicole Borello - No Formal Burial

No Formal Burial

I dreamt the roses died.
The shape and odor
melted into a red ocean.
I dreamt I was gnawing on
a warm piece of bread.
A delusional delicacy
disappearing from my palms.
My dead branches poked
with drought and dusted with
barren earth, bleed thin twigs.
I dreamt I was awake, that within
the dream their bellies were full.
They were different versions of myself:
skinny, fed, bloated, in peasant bondage,
feverish, tenant in a tenant-landlord brawl.
I can’t seem to escape the spiral of
my children’s limbs. My milkless breasts
lead my children into misery.
                            …guigh orainn na peacaigh,
                                        (pray for us sinners)
                                                    …anois, agus ar uair ár mbáis
                                                            (now and at the hour of our death)

And I dig the earth just to prepare.



Nicole Borello is the author of So What If I Bleed (Llumina Press, 2010), Fried Fish and Breast Milk (dancing girl press, 2013), Delirium of the Deflowered (Quaci Press, 2013). She is the editor and founder of Quaci Press. For contact and more information: info@quacipress.com

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