Drought
Every day ripe corn lingers
in the field unpicked:
silk, more brittle in the sun
husk, papery from the heat
cob, like bone—no rain on the horizon—
rows of kernels puckering,
until the corn prays
for even earworms and flea beetles to come,
lest it fall back to the dirt
untasted
Yield
You are buckled in, strapped down, belt tensioned
across your hips, crossed taut from your shoulder—
doors locked & rumbling as the car rolls,
skids, slides across the blacktop—
the graceless ballet of a car crash
tearing up squares of sod with shredded tires
the vicious perfume of oil & burnt rubber
from tires, safety brakes locked & useless—
somersaults in nearly perfect arcs, punctuated by
the squeal & shriek of bending metal
finally just the hiss, rattling like a gentleman snake,
you come to a full stop, softer than you’d braced for: then,
just the quiet of air whooshing through a blizzard of safety glass,
or is that just
the breath you’d been holding
filling your lungs again?
Wacissa Blueberries
like the last years of a marriage,
are luscious toward the end of the season,
before the rains rumble inland
and wash the sweetest fruits away.
Allie Marini Batts holds degrees from Antioch University of Los Angeles & New College of Florida, meaning she can explain deconstructionism, but cannot perform simple math. Her work has been a finalist for Best of the Net & nominated for the Pushcart Prize. She is managing editor for the NonBinary Review & Zoetic Press, & has previously served on the masthead for Lunch Ticket, Spry Literary Journal, The Weekenders Magazine, Mojave River Review & Press, & The Bookshelf Bombshells. Allie is the author of Before Fire, (forthcoming, ELJ Publications), This Is How We End (forthcoming, Bitterzoet), Unmade & Other Poems, (Beautysleep Press, 2013) & You Might Curse Before You Bless (ELJ Publications, 2013). Find her on the web: https://www.facebook.com/AllieMariniBatts or @kiddeternity
