December 3, 2014

J. Divina Erickson


not a flower not
a piece of wool, not low-cut
t-shirts, not third base, not a book
open upon the floor, not dry skin,
not a knot in a rope, not a tethered ball,
not our shadows on the wall in the
bathroom, not a dark closet,
not a pile of clothes,
not a waste,
not a corset tied so
tight there is no breath,
not a knife on the nape of the
neck, not a trace, not a permanent
crease on the thigh, not an open face, not
a sandwich without mayonnaise, not
a birth canal, not a parent, not too
rough, not a dull ache, not a
collection of kapala skulls,
not a copy of paradise
lost, not feeling real,
a tree struck by
lightning splayed
in an open field.

from Rattle #44, Summer 2014


J. Divina Erickson: “I’m an introvert by trade and intimacy is difficult for me to come by. I feel most connected with a person when I am reading their poems, which is why I really enjoy reading and writing poetry. It opens up a venue where I can be with the soul of another person without the pressure or anxiety to be completely exposed myself, or staring someone in the face as I do so. This isn’t supposed to be as dark as it sounds.” (web)

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