Tuesday, November 04, 2014

Shamala Gallagher

JULY



For months I eat only
apples I keep
them in my closet       I return palming

the oil of
their smell


Deep skins red as between the teeth


Now you lie in his arms
proud as a stretched leg


Listen it is near midsummer and our friends are fucking
in the twilight       smoking
in the brambles       is it getting too late


If I eat only apples       I am not thin yet
will my bones be like the edges of a bowl





DIRT MOUTH



The radish
glares and thickens

on its red
hidden string


but who knows
if the beets

will
root:


bull-dark,

cheeks stained
chocolate:


whole and blood-
certain


as my
brute ache


for you
in the night







Shamala Gallagher's chapbook I Learned the Language of Barbs and Sparks No One Spoke is forthcoming from dancing girl press in 2015. She holds an MFA from the Michener Center for Writers and lives in Athens, Georgia.