Too High and Too Blue in New Mexico | Becca Yenser
Becca Yenser was born in the midwest, raised in Oregon, and occasionally resides in New Mexico. She is a first year MFA candidate in creative writing at Wichita State University, where she also interns for Dzanc Books and edits for Mikrokosmos Literary Journal. Her work recently appears in: Pom Pom Lit, Dostoyevsky Wannabe, The Nervous Breakdown, 1001 Editors, Fanzine, Eclectica Magazine, decomP, HOOT, and CHEAP POP. This is her first full-length collection of poetry. Find more writing on Ink Node, and at https://beccayenser.wordpress.com/.
How To Forgive In the Desert
First, attach yourself to the sky.
Go to the furthest edge of city: violet,
Starstruck, closer to god. Not everyone
Has the heart for it. Some hearts are less red.
Find yourself a cloud kingdom. Don’t
Come down easily, stay up in that thin air.
Don’t think about how you can’t breathe.
People have not breathed here for 11,000 years.
Second, try to remember why you’re here.
Slick rock playground. These are hippos
On their sides. There is never any water. Arroyo.
Say arroyo over and over until your throat is a canyon.
Third, pray to the creatures, especially the Whiptail
Lizards whose backs are lined like cucumbers.
Birds will come and go. Fine-dusted worries will land on your toes;
Coarser planets, in your hair. Running will result in headache.
Please, do not run.
Remember: You will never be able to see the plateau and the canyon
At the same time. When you are walking one way, you
Will only remember what is behind you. When you look
Behind, you will only guess what lies ahead.
You do not know who you are anymore.
Now drive home. Shudder in the kitchen.
Watch him eat cold cereal as you try to explain
Your tiny heart, the handfuls of stones in your pockets.