Poem 13

In your absence it was my job
to keep the dog from digging

in the yard. But I was rabid too.
I was in a fever and lock jawed
and so insatiably thirsty
I drank
and drank
and drank
‘til I could feel it move inside me
like my very own tide;

you were a strong moon.
In that horrifying dream
I am the one destroying.
I have a tide in my belly then too
which moves my whole body.

In this waking life
the rabid me follows my mouth,
my nose which can’t understand either,
but night after night brings me to this same bed.

*
Our dog is learning: digs,
avoiding the flowering weeds
you couldn’t help but to love.

--marlo barrera

june 2010