What Rough Beast | Poem for July 19, 2019

Irene Cooper
loss in HD

awakened to aching florescence i
take note of the bars. wherever i am
my body pretends it’s glad
to see me, surprised at the
natural way i lay open to the tide.
i wake to see that while my brain—pine swept—
dissolved all the salty morsels on its tongue you
prayed for death. i slept out
of kindness and a phobia of disorder o
how will you tell me now i was never your beloved

Irene Cooper’s poems appear online and in print. She holds an MFA from Oregon State University, is a freelance copywriter, facilitates creative writing workshops in Central Oregon, co-edits The Stay Project, and has a novel forthcoming in 2020.

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