Tag: Molly Fisk

The Give & Take by Molly Fisk

~ ONE ART ~ 2 Comments

The Give & Take

Sitting with my friend, each deep in our thoughts,
the timer set, pens in hand, the cacophony ebbing
& rising around us. Rumble of baritone & soprano

descant not in time but still their own music, the way
an ocean will greet its shore, off-rhythm, impossible
to replicate. Beyond the plate glass, a blue California

November sky. I think I’ll try to stay alive a little longer,
despite cars, Covid, wildfire, the black widow spider
laying her eggs under the lid of my turkey pan again.

Ill-designed kitchen cabinetry probably kills more people
than is reported. And the tripping over cats suddenly
stopped cold in a hallway. Private, quiet dangers

of a country pretending it’s not at war, pretending to address
looming disaster & the accumulated damage of unkindness
without admitting greed. I wince even at the 12-Step motto

Take what you like and leave the rest. However
well-meaning, it’s colonial thinking, and me a daughter
of colonizers from way back. Take care, instead.

Take it easy. Takes one to know one. Even Take a hike!
but other than that, stop taking, give generously, give it
everything you’ve got, your best shot, give it up,

give it your all, go on: give it away with both hands,
God give us strength to break trail as we head into a new
world of chaos, more equality, uncertainty.

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Molly Fisk edited California Fire & Water, A Climate Crisis Anthology, with a Poets Laureate Fellowship from the Academy of American Poets. She’s won grants from the NEA, the California Arts Council, and the Corporation for Public Broadcasting. Her most recent poetry collection is The More Difficult Beauty; her latest book of radio commentary is Everything But the Kitchen Skunk. Fisk lives in the Sierra foothills. mollyfisk.com

In Other News by Molly Fisk

~ ONE ART ~ 2 Comments

In Other News

I am not walking along a shore,
hands in pockets and buttoned
up to the neck against this bright
November, thinking of everything
everyone I love has taught me:
how not to change lanes into
another car’s blind spot and linger,
the best way to conjure fire —
gradation of twigs, faster- and slower-
burning sorts of wood and it really
does have to be dry: smoldering
keeps no one warm. I can easily find
the edges now between anger, rage,
and disappointment by what’s running
underneath and stop before I lash out.
I don’t hurt myself or anyone else
on purpose. Cast iron gets wiped
with kosher salt and paper towels
so it will last a few more generations.
To swim across cold lakes, you walk in
up to your waist — no point getting out
if your suit’s already wet. I’m childless,
I have no one to teach this to,
it’s up to you. Use half a potato to twist
the broken light bulb from its socket.
If your gas pedal jams while accelerating,
the hand brake won’t last: turn off the engine.
Add a little pasta water to the sauce.
Don’t worry about dilution,
it will coat the noodles perfectly.

*

Molly Fisk edited California Fire & Water, A Climate Crisis Anthology, with a Poets Laureate Fellowship from the Academy of American Poets when she was Poet Laureate of Nevada County, CA. She’s also won grants from the NEA, the California Arts Council, and the Corporation for Public Broadcasting. Her most recent poetry collection is The More Difficult Beauty; her latest book of radio commentary is Naming Your Teeth. Fisk lives in the Sierra foothills. mollyfisk.com