Devon Balwit
The Confusion is Understandable
Woman accidentally joins search party looking for herself.
I can see how it would happen, the urgency gathering
her up, the need to bring something back at the end
of the day, like my dog in the pouring rain, chasing
a found Frisbee beyond shatter till the last flung fragment
hangs itself in a tree. Otherwise, the hours shrink
to returned tests, students glancing briefly at the score
before crumpling them into the trash. My hands
grip the table edge. I, too, want to look for myself.
Where was I last seen? Was it decades ago, in line
at the Registrar when, lost among binaries, I dropped
computer science? Or was it when I stood before the judge
petitioning for a name change? I call my new one loudly,
convincingly, summoning myself from chaparral.
I hand myself a thermal blanket, a nip of rum. We lean
our heads against the window as the miles whip past.
We are being returned. Each time the window warms,
we shift slightly, a mother plying ice until the fever breaks.
Devon Balwit is a writer/teacher from Portland, Oregon. Her poems of protest have appeared previously in What Rough Beast as well as in The New Verse News, Poets Reading the News, Rattle, Redbird Weekly Reads, Rise-Up Review, Rat’s Ass Review, The Rising Phoenix Review, Mobius, and more.
SUBMIT to What Rough Beast via our SUBMITTABLE site.
To support the mission and work of Indolent Books, consider making a tax-deductible contribution to Indolent Arts Foundation, a 501(c)(3) charity.
Join our mailing list to receive news, updates, and special offers from Indolent Books.