J u l i e t G e l f m a n - R a n d a z z o —
what is the shape of a heat wave?
Cheeto dust on my fingers
i goop hydrocortisone cream
atop extra strength Benadryl
itch stopping gel in the crook
behind my knee.
the Cheetos are hot. the bite
behind the crook of my knee
is hot. I am viewing
someone else’s screen.
how intimate, like touching
the crook, behind someone
else’s knee. hot,
like the behind
of the refrigerator’s hull
the heat map is a series of scratches
like when you used to be able to watch
the static channel on tv. i would watch
the static channel on tv, like it was
the weather. it told me the same thing:
chaos! hot, or maybe cold.
black, or maybe white. it told me
you know we persist
in the midst of the mist
earl grey mint fizz
a wave sounds like such a pleasantry
hello heat! hello! goodbye goodbye goodbye!!!!
when my friends left i waved bye
and then settled
into the heat. they drove off
with the a/c and i mourned
their cool presence. cool,
like me, relieving most itches
hey you! yeah, you.
you have an itch
you want me to cool?
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a side against a side against a side.
that makes a shape. one of the sides
is bent. new shape, hot
off the press.
extra extra, read all about this shape:
my body made it. it lives behind the crook
of my knee. do you want to feel it?
you can
when spring in the ambulance
pink pussy flowers! red trucks ambling by! weeooo weeoooo! pollen!
mine eyes! another emergency! trucks toting cars by the tail! sirens!
squashed fruit by my foot! screeching of the cars! a bicycle!
a boyfriend! a person with a microphone! an upstairs neighbor!
money! a person asking for cash! a man on a bicycle blasting sound
from a speaker! lost candy! lost photostrip! mine pant leg furled!
outside the water ice shop a man stops
us to ask a question. “i’ll ask you”
he says, “but not your wife”
if i am ever someone’s wife i’d like
to still be asked for things though
today i’m not obliged to apologize
for not carting cash in the correct amount
when i do i give it away quick, tip
jars and hands that ask oh money
gross and necessary
pears at the coop! cats in the windows! the bushes bound up with birds!
cheep cheep! a hand on a latch! seven seats on the corner! cheap cheap!
symphonic disaster! musical chairs! a man gripping a mic! hey!
yeah you! i saw that smile!
daylight savings is ruining my whole life
i often wish i had more interests
besides staring into the abyss
of my iphone’s screen. my screen
is always managing to be
a little cracked. i often
wish i were able to keep things
from breaking more generally.
i sometimes suspect i am saying
the wrong thing specifically
on the phone. when i can’t see a face
words just furl crackily
i didn’t hear you, i say
plucking shavings of glass from the toes
of my gritty blue socks. what did i say?
i shut my shade and my nice
glass smashed. i cleaned up bits with the tips
of my fingers gingerly, as they say
and then i left the glass and its guts
on the floor to step on later. crack
my foot in half on. i was all set
to make dinner but when i held
the eggplant aloft its butt was fuzzed
like it was going grey. my fridge
is like the presidency that way:
really stressful. always too much
of whatever i least want. my baby carrots
have gone stale, or at least lost their color.
it is autumn and the days feel raw
a little undercooked. gingerly, i sat the ginger
in the hot oiled pan. there’s a lump
on my hand that is not to be worried
about. my doctor said so, insisted.
gingerly, she prodded my lump
and it wobbled under the pad
of her doctor fingers. there’s nothing
to worry about, she insisted
but something won’t allow me
to wholly believe
.