From Ghosty-Boo – Kate Litterer
I haven’t had sex
in ages. Kissing is riding a carousel,
leaning out and trying to
grab the metal ring when you circle by.
If you miss, you have a
rotation to harden yourself
until you turn to stone.
My card this year is
Death. Like a flowerbed
tilled and bubbling up, I
stew. I cleanse and hide
under my charcoal facial
I am a child in an adult
body. People hoot
at me and my eyes
pop open wide. I only trust
my cats, and I am patterned.
My anxiety is like a quilt that I lay down
and look at. It doesn’t keep me warm,
and my job is to keep people
from crawling under it. It takes all
day. I have eyes like an iguana and it hurts.
Kate Litterer received her MFA in poetry from the University of Massachusetts Amherst Program for Poets and Writers. Her poetry has appeared in or is forthcoming from Coconut, The Destroyer, Finery, Forklift, Ohio, h_ngm_n, Ilk, inter|rupture, Jellyfish, La Vague, NonBinary Review, Phantom Limb, Route Nine Literary Journal, Sixth Finch, Spoke Too Soon, and the anthology Please Excuse This Poem: 100 New Poems for the Next Generation. Her first book of poems, Ghosty Boo, is forthcoming from A-Minor Press in 2015. She is pursuing a PhD in Composition and Rhetoric at the University of Massachusetts Amherst, and focuses on queer and feminist historiography and archival research. She lives in Western Massachusetts with her two Maine Coon cats.
Check her out at bestevercatparty.tumblr.com.