Holly Day: Two Poems
HEY. NOW
my boyfriend is so happy
the doctor put me back on lithium. he likes
the taste, he says. it keeps him
happy. doesn't it make me
happy? I think
he needs help more than I do.
I'd rather feel depressed
than feel nothing at all. textures
fade to gray, my fingers are numb
my hands are cold, barely connected
to the rest of my body,
but my boyfriend is happy. his eyes
shine from the corner, glazed over
baby-bright.
I think he needs help
more than I do.
MICHAEL
God has chosen His Instrument-
you feel the weight of Armageddon
as you walk down the hall, side offices
filled with meat. Dinner
wears a short skirt
and calls you "honey."
No denying the responsibility-you plan the end of the world
at lunch, making mental checklists
who to fuck, who to eat,
who to fuck then eat. Cattle
march by your table, lowing softly.
You play with the vegetables on your plate,
time running out.
God has chosen His Instrument-you bring her to your place
for the first time. You put her soft flesh
in your mouth-Communion,
Absolution in the name of Religion-
angels scream outside your window as the Lamb
takes His breakfast in bed.
Holly Day's writing has appeared in hundreds of publications including, Atom Mind, Blue Collar Review, City Pages,
Porcupine Literary Journal, and Pyrowords
