Each time the personhood nears its edge.A hometown so dear you can smellits insides, the very prosperous names of creation.How many places have you traveled. And whenyou return, what is it like. The bears still learnfrom their young how to tame a thing.Flatbush is the ghetto part, our driver responds to a questionwe didn’t ask. Can you spare some affluence. The soil is being patted downinto place by sharp elegant hands. The urgency of the timesis on my desktop, laptop, TV. A special meditation in diversion.Can’t finish saying what I was saying before because I got too many plastic bags now.More than ever, I can imagine wasting you by degrees: the sudden violenceof dry earth rising ·up in rain. At first, I could not claim even myself as hateeven as I baptized myself in her waters.
The Revolution Is Edible
Feature Date
- December 3, 2021
Series
Selected By
Share This Poem
Print This Poem
“The Revolution Is Edible” from THE ANIMAL INDOORS: by Carly Inghram.
Published by Autumn House Press September 29th, 2021.
Copyright © 2021 by Carly Inghram.
All rights reserved.
Reproduced by Poetry Daily with permission.
Carly Inghram is a poet from Atlanta. She received an MFA in poetry from Columbia University. Her work is featured in The Indianapolis Review, Prelude, and elsewhere. Her debut collection, Sometimes the Blue Trees, was released from Vegetarian Alcoholic Press in 2019. She currently lives in Manhattan and teaches Kindergarten in the Bronx.
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
In The Animal Indoors interior and exterior worlds blend with lyricism like ‘the sudden violence of dry earth rising up in rain.’ These poems sing as they please of The Real Housewives of Atlanta, Frank Ocean, and America’s ‘edges flittering in the small light.’ Melancholy and joy overlap, clap, and slap. The Animal Indoors is full of acts of love and creation. What a capacious, capricious new book.”
—Terrance Hayes, author of American Sonnets for My Past and Future Assassin
The Animal Indoors crowds the threshold of knowing and transformation, “fully awake now, / looking straight into the heart / of spring.” Where once yard and its “good bones,” now the closed door; where once the cage, now a “voice, a clearing.” These poems sow the unexpected and bloom with unease.
—Donika Kelly, author of The Renunciations
Poetry Daily Depends on You
With your support, we make reading the best contemporary poetry a treasured daily experience. Consider a contribution today.
