The Godmother Teaches of Desolation
By Courtney Cliften
She reminds me of the desert,
and by that I mean, she reminds me
that sometimes we must demand
to survive. She says acrostics
have a way of figuring out exactly
what we want to say, closes books
if they don’t feel important.
Today, she wrote to me, said men
are a pain in the ass. In the same letter,
wrote about him, about forgiveness—
skin on skin, arms full.
She chops vegetables for Tuesday
dinners, calls it love. Quotes herself,
or me, or Adrienne Rich, tells me it’s okay
to be neither mother nor wife,
reminds me of the miles of Mojave sage
pushing through the dry, cracked earth
insisting it belongs.
Courtney Cliften was raised in the Nevada desert and writes poetry as an MFA candidate at the University of Nevada, Reno. Her work has appeared in The Meadow, Helen Literary Magazine, An Anthology of Emerging Poets, The Racket, The Hunger, Caustic Frolic, and more. Courtney will be presenting a poetry workshop at the Carson City Library on April 29 at 1 pm, Nevada Reads In Your Library—What I Know and How I’ll Say It.
Photo courtesy of Courtney Cliften.