Shift. Identity or dishes
to the dishes rack.
This late swarming of June light
is going to murder me.
Shift. The children’s clothes
from the dryer to their drawers
or the entire entity of myself
from room to room
gathering debris or Holy stones.
What cornerstone might have the builder
attributed to me?
The Lord said, original sin
means you must crawl on your belly
and eat dirt. My daughter
was drinking a juice box beside me
when this was mentioned in church today.
I can’t be certain that I am good.
But I washed the upholstery today
with soap and water. Shift.
Once I was a paper-doll
with a throbbing heart
and a dangerous car. The desk
which upheld my language
was left in my spinster’s apartment
so long ago
that I cannot recall my life
prior to the shift.
EMILY VOGEL’S poetry, reviews, essays, and translations have been published widely, most recently in PEN, Omniverse, and The North American Review. She is the author of five chapbooks and three full-length collections, the most recent being “Dante’s Unintended Flight” (NYQ Books 2017). She has a children’s book, “Clara’s Song” due to be released in the Spring of 2019 (Swingin’ Bridge Books). She teaches writing at SUNY Oneonta and is married to the poet, Joe Weil.