I am not the cloud
rising
wealthy as a mushroom, serene
and terrible
seeping
into everything.
But I can make one pint of raspberry ice cream last
a whole month
shaving off
single tranquil ribbons
one at a time,
my stainless teaspoon mining
deep in. And I do
savor
the wet
tang of red. It’s metallic,
ice cold.
Elizabeth O’Brien lives in Minneapolis, MN, where she earned an MFA in Poetry at the University of Minnesota. Her work—poetry and prose—has appeared in many journals, including New England Review,The Rumpus, Diagram, Sixth Finch, Radar Poetry, PANK, Cicada, and the Ploughshares blog. Her chapbook, A Secret History of World Wide Outage, is forthcoming from ELJ Publications. Follow her on twitter at @elzb_obri.
–Art by Ashley Holloway
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