Where There is Overflow

If I'm stuck here with this moonface
it is not a best moment. All night
I'm collecting water glasses
and flooding your aquarium.
I've snuck a thousand tiny tubes
under your door and still the ocean
is wrecked. I have learning to do:
wipe my spit off the mirror
take my organs in stride
grow a gunmetal heart in the bathtub.
When I go to the kitchen I can't stand it.
I pour my drink down your shirt and say
What is the duct to your memory bank?
How gigantic am I with my hair dripping?
You look at me inflated. I'm dressed
impractically. I'm ready to be slapped
with this umbrella that won't open.

Rough Translation

Nothing I shout will make it
across the arctic tundra. I am
still here in this dust bowl
brimming and shaking to some
wrong rhythm my ancestors
left behind. I could travel
thousands of miles to you
and stand here broken-jawed
no longer bright and bleeding
but I am not vigilant. I would
rather stake all hope in what
is to come than float through
the world like some idiot
slapped by grief. Amen.

Anne Cecelia Holmes is the author of a chapbook, Junk Parade (dancing girl press), and co-author with Lily Ladewig of the e-chapbook I Am A Natural Wonder (Blue Hour Press). Her poems have been published in jubilat, Conduit, Denver Quarterly, Sixth Finch, OmniVerse, and other places. She lives in Western Massachusetts.