there’s only so much

metal on earth—another

way to phrase this:

how often will I be expected

to wake up with plundered copper coils

on my tongue? a decommissioned

satellite in my chest? there are humane

methods of extraction: ex. putting

me back to sleep &

forbidding my aimless swallowing

of every potentially valuable thing

I come across on a rainy night.

you know I do this to feel

something other than erosion.

what erodes a stone

in the absence

of wind & water?

what makes dust

of a body other

than slow violence

over long periods of time?

if we’d thought to shield

the moon from celestial impact—

if we’d had that kind

of leverage in the universe—

would it still be mirror

smooth? would it be content

to show us ourselves &

stifle a laugh?

© 2021 Tamara Jerée