September 2024
Bio Note: In September I will have the great pleasure of reading in New York City with a few Verse-Virtual staples, including Barbara Crooker and Alan Walowitz. I am justifiably intimidated, but also ecstatic to have this opportunity. Alan and I co-wrote In the Muddle of the Night (which unfortunately came out in 2020) and will finally have a chance to read together in person. September has many associations for me: the excitement I felt as a child going back to school, the fear I felt on 9/11. It will be profound and apt to be back in New York for many reasons.
An Ode to Swallowing
when even a spoonful is too much, you feed on a line of sugar water, heart thrumming like a hummingbird when your throat narrows along with the road ahead and fear of aspiration fills you with dread when the lump in your throat becomes an unspoken apology in mine when the line is drawn between ritual and survival and a meal is made of air when the tart smoothness of a teaspoonful of yogurt distills a perfect sweetness from our first gulp of air at birth to the first solid that we consume, we take for granted the breath, nourishment, swallow the fear of choking in time, we begin our vigil, watch our elders, then become our elders— each bite a promise and a threat, the irony cruel on our tongues if we’re lucky, return to gruel, swallow what we must.
Originally published in Minyan
Muffler
I wake up, neck tight, dream’s scarf still encircling my throat. I unwind it, feel my heart breath returning, dream receding, stepping back into the alley of the night.
Originally published in ONE ART
©2024 Betsy Mars
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