英文诗词Raw Goods Inventory

英文诗词Raw Goods Inventory

　　Raw Goods Inventory

　　by Emily Rosko

　　Oh， clouds that do not look like cherubs， move over！ My heart

　　isn‘t big enough to include you. The crows shit on

　　my car every morning， such

　　gratuitous little fellows—the things I never asked for. Oh， unrecognized

　　genius， the modest beauty wasting from

　　illness， the good-kid-turned-bad. Failing

　　grade， summer heat. Oh， row of desks I loathed sitting at. In

　　school， we hatched chickens from an incubator， eggs

　　in rotation， the chicks deformed. One

　　with thin chest skin and no ribs—the organs sludged

　　and its cheep-cheep cries. The animals my mother made me

　　return—the rabbit， the toad， the slug. Oh， child

　　tossing a ball alone！ The dandelions are systematically doused

　　with chemicals—the chemicals you‘ll sniff

　　as a teenager， the brain the unrepining side-kick.

　　Dear sister whom I cannot relate to， I surrendered my popsicles

　　to you！ Friend who kept my videotapes. Ex-lover，

　　you fall so clumsily through old poems. Book， you

　　looked better on the shelf！ Oh， the philomaths are paraphrasing

　　other people‘s theories， the same dribble！ Numbers and words，

　　teleological trinkets that can‘t retain the world. Over

　　a thousand monarchs frost-nipped in Mexico—untranslatable

　　odor. Oh， sex-drive that won‘t be active forever！ Oh，

　　old woman I will someday become！ Take stock now， I say， use

　　your flexibility. Stomach stay flat， breasts don‘t droop any time

　　soon. Oh， body， you were once small

　　and resilient—you could shimmy through

　　tight places. Mind， you were sparked； heart， uninjured. I am

　　such a thing. Lazy day. Oh， wizened hickory，

　　I too grow out of myself.