"I let the D in French catch fire," by Martha Silano

I let the D in French catch fire,

I let the bad news bruise. I let the smallest bones of the rat
catch in the Tom cat’s teeth. The warning:
don’t feed the hummingbirds

sugar water, don’t shoosh the gold star, the seed beneath
a quarter-inch of soil. No one loves enough anymore.
Everyone loves too much. I go to tie my shoe

and snap the lace. Soon we will all be shoeless, shineless,
Earth-less. Two hands can kill. The bumper sticker
said Honk If You Love.

So many wants they fill the confetti sky. Our bottle rocket
sorrow, our likes kicking in a basement window.
Always one more lemon in the bin.

I let the cat have the bones. Often,
we confuse servile
with survive.

Martha Silano

Martha Silano has published five books of poetry, most recently Gravity Assist (Saturnalia Books, 2019). She is co-author of The Daily Poet: Day-By-Day Prompts for Your Writing Practice. Her poems have appeared in Paris Review, Poetry, and Best American Poetry, among others. Honors include North American Review’s James Hearst Poetry Prize, the Cincinnati Review’s Robert and Adele Schiff Poetry Prize, and a Pushcart Prize Special Mention. She teaches at Bellevue College and Hugo House in Seattle, WA.

Headshot: Martha Silano

Photo Credit: Staff