Two Poems

By - Jun 23, 2017


The best intention is a dark thought in a dark room

The body has temples

And my skull is a cathedral

Hiding me behind a face I do not choose

My default expression is worried

People are always asking me what’s wrong

I dole out assurances

But what is wrong

I do not wish to be seen out of the house today

I get anti-nature behind walls of my choosing

I like a shared solitude

An apartmental landscape of erotic hearing

If I close my eyes

I can hear my blood calling out to me

The summer air is a loud mouth I must step into

I sweat into cotton

My hair noncompliant

A monument to weather

Ever expanding

The truth is I’m no different from the beasts of the land

This is the knowledge it takes to sustain me

An ant in a long line of ants

I keep myself occupied

Under my carapace

The firmament divided

Objects given names

Assigned values

The fact is I know I am worth my salt

My money is paid for

Men wield some power but have yet to learn

The earth is a mom

Build a wall and it will come down

Positively uterine




Today I’m a hack

At the Thunderdome of Playing It Cool

Today I am almost

I feel the emerald glow of my imagination

Foreclosing on a private drive

When I have nothing else to give

I give

And I give

I look over my shoulder

Like I have a lot more horse

Though I feel my gait losing suspension

I feel a lack

I feel a slow sadness

Seeping in


A kind of spell

I saddle into




Sarah Jean Grimm is the author of Soft Focus (Metatron, 2017) and a founding editor of the online quarterly, Powder Keg Magazine. She lives in New York City, where she works as a publicist at Penguin Random House.
Art by Genieve Figgis