Correct me if I’m wrong—
you’ve never heard the craggy breath
of drought. Caught in the stark
clear silence of snow, with its chubby
perfect mounds of white out.
You’d cancel everything, if you could, with this chill—
which I think is fine, sometimes,
considering I’ve cancelled myself and most
everything in it. Meanwhile, in the wood
and mud, what’s left is playing the Three Minute Game
with a stretch of root: “How would you
like me to touch you for three minutes?”
and even this root lowers its expectations
for growth. Which, you think, is
fine, sometimes, as long as you don’t
have to look at it.
Avren Keating is a poet and artist. They’ve published in EOAGH, 580 Split, Omniverse, and THEM: A Trans Literary Journal. Avren also hosts “Waves Breaking,” a podcast for trans and gender-variant poetry.