Jennifer Loyd | Poetry
It’s not in fashion to believe.
So, you see my conundrum—my lacey, abused conundrum.
Belief in a future “us” gets me out of bed,
it makes me put the lotion on, walks me
past the intersection where we met, and later,
in the shower, turns me flagellant.
Infatuation for the wound’s sake.
My fantasies have not matured much
beyond parking lots and dark corners,
beyond wind moving against the Gulf
of Mexico (beyond fetch and shear).
Then there is that pelican diving
for mullet, breaking the water
which is sticky with other water
(brief lie of adhesion).
Waste is a story too.
I build a lean-to out of the detritus
of our brief exchange, a diorama
of my own lust. Can the smell
of the peach be enough?
Not these days.
Based in West Texas, Jennifer Loyd is a poet, translator, and a former editor for Copper Nickel, West Branch, and Sycamore Review. For her poetry exploring the archives of Rachel Carson, she has received a Stadler Fellowship, as well as research grants from Purdue University, where she earned an MFA. Her poems and prose, which explore the intersection between private voice and public narratives, appear in Best New Poets 2022, The Southern Review, The Rumpus, Shenandoah, Prairie Schooner, Poet Lore, and elsewhere.