Tag: Marissa Glover poems

Poetry

Better Living Through Chemistry by Marissa Glover

Sorting meds into the seven-day pill organizercan be a kind of rosary—answering questionsand reciting allergies at each appointment, a litany.Pinching the capsule between thumb and forefingerlike taking a wafer—washing it down the throatwith water instead of wine, you are a priest nowpresiding over this holy rite. Affirmations in the caror mirror are just prayers said with your eyes open. Continue reading Better Living Through Chemistry by Marissa Glover

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Poetry

#MeToo by Marissa Glover

SomewhereHarvey Weinstein is rottingin a cell, feeling sorryfor himself and blaming womenfor all the troublehis pecker and pride has caused.Epstein’s dead and rotting too.But what about the movie starsand mega-rich who keep makingfilms and money, who knew catswere being kept in gilded cagesand tortured for their skin—this fraternity of bystanders,the Cains who insist they are nottheir brother’s keeper. What about David, the IsraeliteKing, who commanded … Continue reading #MeToo by Marissa Glover

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Poetry

When He Tells You He’s a Bastard, Believe Him by Marissa Glover

Believe his stories of the past,the graves dug with eagershovels, filled to the brimwith bones. Don’t thinkof fairy tales, the motherlessgirls who marry a princeand live happily. Leave himin his reluctance. Let himstay buried in anger. RememberMera, Queen of Xebel,who spends an entire movietrying to convince Aquamanhe has what it takes to be a hero.And Daenerys, Mother of Dragons,rightful Targaryen Queen,who loses her throne—andher life, … Continue reading When He Tells You He’s a Bastard, Believe Him by Marissa Glover

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Poetry

A Taste For Naming by Marissa Glover

It started with Eve in the Garden. A look, a taste of such delicious fruit —  Before the curse, names like hamor and gamel rolled off Adam’s tongue. After, the taste for naming remained: melons — grapefruits, lemons— pear hips, orange peel thighs, peach, pomegranate, cherry.  With this, man becomes master  of the garden. Paradise regained.  A lick of his lips, a whistle, a hiss. Continue reading A Taste For Naming by Marissa Glover

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