Wednesday, April 28, 2021

National Poetry Month : Genevieve Kaplan,

  

It suits me fine

waking sometimes in the night I felt
some fur beneath my toes
and considered: kitten 1 or kitten 2

to the right
of my right foot, I thought, a kitten. so

I pushed my big toe, my calf closer and

in a notebook I kept score,
some track of emotions, rankings
of delight or astonishment, numbers

to remind myself not to contort
my face and ask instead, what

is the wonder of others? sometimes
I can be quite ungenerous
 

I thought about falling asleep
again. the sheets would take me
and release, I would be alive

with consciousness and departed
from it. to the right of my foot,

I thought

  

 

Genevieve Kaplan is the author of (aviary) (Veliz Books, 2020); In the ice house (Red Hen Press, 2011); and four chapbooks, most recently I exit the hallway and turn right from above/ground press. Her poems can be found in Posit, Third Coast, Spillway, Denver Quarterly, and other journals. A poet, scholar, and book-maker, Genevieve lives in southern California. She edits the Toad Press International chapbook series, publishing contemporary translations of poetry and prose. Visit her at genevievekaplan.com.

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