by Erin Mizrahi
After Paul Celan
We are eating autumn
leaf by leaf
autumn is eating itself
we are stunned
you want to teach time to be soft
in protest, it bites into zinnias
even the smallest buds
memory can mess you up if you think about it
don’t think about it
my mouth stretched along the quiet yawn of your hip
a silken tangerine
I am feasting on a planet’s favorite moon
you whisper something about brothels and cathedrals
I’m thinking about Dante’s Peak, that it could really happen
to soothe me you press your hand to my chest
everyone on twitter is “just trying to see something”
are they seeing it?
my cilantro is flowering
which means it’s dying
which will never make sense to me
you want to know what this poem is hiding
my darling, we are all so terribly alone
and in the small nectar of this day, maybe this is enough
Erin Mizrahi (she/they) is a poet, scholar, educator, curator and collaborator living in Los Angeles. She holds a PhD in comparative studies in literature, media and culture from USC and teaches English at New York University’s LA campus. Erin is co-founding editor of Cobra Milk, a multimedia literary and arts journal, and director of the Cobra Milk reading series. Their writing has appeared or is forthcoming in Yes Poetry, Ginger Zine, Anti-Heroin Chic, Ben Yehuda Press and elsewhere.
