Simeon Berry ~ Three Poems

from Fingerling Lakes

Lab

The Bio teacher’s
stepped out for a cigarette

when Fen recoils
from the tar­nished tray

and says she won’t
dis­sect the fetal pig

This body has been
ren­dered unto the Lord

and we do Him injury
to break its vessel

Sylvia’s unim­pressed
Miss Spooky Bits here

is not going to make
me fail this lab

and she lobs the pig

onto Fen’s chest
who scrambles

back­ward and tears off
her bag­gy sweatshirt

with the formalde­hyde imprint

Thus reveal­ing
unmistakably

how far along she is

Sylvia points with glee
Wow I’d hock

that puri­ty ring

if I were you Sweetheart

Fen’s hand goes
auto­mat­i­cal­ly to

her bel­ly as if
a spike is vibrat­ing there

and the room is so quiet
I can almost hear

her frag­ile hair slip down
to cov­er her face

as she low­ers her head
and doesn’t get up

Sylvia advances on her
as if she’s going to tie her

legs togeth­er like a calf

but is brought up short
when I grab her by

the pony­tail
jerk­ing her backward

so I can hiss into her ear

I will break your fuck­ing neck
if you touch our girl

dia­logue I got
from one of Jay’s

cov­er­less paperbacks

Sylvia tries to twist away
but I drag her further

off-bal­ance
and she goes limp

Fen looks up at me
reg­is­ter­ing how scared I am

and envelops us in a hug

whis­per­ing
I for­give you both

~

Wobblies

Detention takes place
under the flayed

face of the anato­my dummy

glis­ten­ing hieroglyphs
of ovaries and testes

Those hor­mon­al stars that make us
scrab­ble at and gnaw

each oth­er

Stell blows the bangs
off her forehead

and deter­mined­ly returns
to the 500 lines of

Kindly main­tain a dig­ni­fied silence

we have to write
because we told Cheryl

to shut up about
her fable

Her pre­dic­tion
that we’ll be eaten

by the foot­ball team’s
crusty

com­mu­nal
spank sock

they’ve stiff­ened over her

so many times
it’s come alive

and is seek­ing out

the less­er social lifeforms

Just think she told us
wistfully

All those dead soldiers
who could nev­er get inside me

will end up swal­low­ing you

Such irony

Stell thinks Cheryl’s a hard case
Like her hairstick’s

actu­al­ly a shiv

But I hear the wet inhale
of terror

bub­bling in her
B‑movie metaphor

The way Mom winces
at the TV ads for pills

for ready inti­ma­cy
even when

your husband’s zombie-eyed
with cataracts

Or how Miss Nacre smiles
wry­ly at the class clowns

Like the Wobblies she always says

Who thought they’d eat pie
in the sky

By and by

~

Alternative

Officially we aren’t
at the health food store

since Dad thinks
they snort saffron

and feel guilty
about the elec­tri­cal life

in toma­toes

But Mom buys me
man­drake bars

that fork
into syrup and earth

in my mouth

and I like to watch her flirt
with the gen­tle burnout

out­fit­ted in the bik­er beige

of suede vest and flaxen
harem pants

Mom says she talks to him

because the Lord likes losers

but he’s got a bassist’s hands
and the loose-joint­ed look

of hav­ing slept around
in Renaissance Faires

When she gets that shy smile
I walk back

between the painfully-unfinished
wood­en shelves

the bins of dusty beans and grains

and remem­ber Miss Nacre

telling us spices
cam­ou­flaged rot­ting meat

and embalmed bodies

At the back
the com­mu­ni­ty board

is a hap­haz­ard col­lage of crystals
taped up in overlapping

cen­ter­folds of alien genitalia

Folks offer­ing the dead
like run­way mod­els to tell you

how to live and why
the biotin isn’t activated

in your blood
How we’re still suffering

from an ancient Egyptian
plague of wheat

I hear Mom asking
the clerk if he can say

They were sore afraid

in Elvish to her

as my eye gloss­es over
the one-shot seminars

and promis­es

to find an air-brushed shot
of Fen wear­ing a fan­cy bathrobe

and adver­tis­ing lay­ing-on
of hands

in the lin­eage of Esther
Salomé and Joan of Arc

~

Simeon Berry won the National Poetry Series for his first col­lec­tion of poet­ry, Ampersand Revisited (Fence Books), and his sec­ond book of poet­ry, Monograph (University of Georgia Press). He has been an Associate Editor for Ploughshares and won a Massachusetts Cultural Council Individual Artist Grant, and his work has appeared in AGNI, Colorado Review, Blackbird, DIAGRAM, The Iowa Review, and many oth­er journals.