UnNamed
Some days I ask how
did I survive them? Him
a tornado of loud throughout
the house, she quiet, feet
always up on an ottoman,
the only chatter
the TV’s endless bustle.
The windows rattle. The
dog growls, reveals her teeth.
Who am I? There is no
one here to ask. In her mouth
I am “Please Bring Me;”
in his “Poison.” Still. Clear.
The skull and the X that marks
it. There is no lyric here. Just
this dead and noisy air. Some
days I want to tattoo my name
onto their tongues, but I don’t
know what to write. Any answer.
Am I poison? A girl born
to give pleasure to others?
Was there ever a name? Did
anyone once look deep
into my face to see who I am?
*
Poet, essayist, translator, and Fulbright Scholar, Rachel Neve-Midbar’s collection Salaam of Birds (Tebot Bach 2020) was chosen by Dorothy Barresi for the Patricia Bibby First Book Prize. She is also the author of the chapbook, What the Light Reveals (Tebot Bach, 2014, winner of The Clockwork Prize). She is the co-editor of Stained: an anthology of writing about menstruation (Querencia Press, July 2023). More at rachelnevemidbar.com
This poem is so well crafted. I love the opening line. It hooked me from the beginning.
Wow. Powerful.
“Him/a tornado of loud” – says so much. We all want to be seen. Excellent work.