how to survive a crisis without making it worse
poetry by Jill Khoury
how to survive a crisis without making it worse
i curry the coffee into a delicious bomb
i pluck knife stems, release the blades from dirt
i run the sink until the basin fills with joggling water
i slice cuttlefish tentacle and fry in a scatter of oil
i run the soap sponge around the lip of the cup
i replace books in alphabetical order
i fluff rugs and thrash a pillow
i write numbers for depression suicide anxiety appetite
i lay myself on the carpet floor to systematize my breathing
i beat the carpet floor with my stupid fist sobbing
i get a heavier shirt because of the wind
i rip the plastic wrapper to find more plastic
i paint a tiny wooden coffin
i change the litter, vacuum often
Jill Khoury
Jill Khoury writes on gender, disability, and embodied identity. She holds an MFA from The Ohio State University and edits Rogue Agent, a journal that features poetry and art of the body. She has written two chapbooks—Borrowed Bodies (Pudding House, 2009) and Chance Operations (Paper Nautilus, 2016). Her debut full-length collection, Suites for the Modern Dancer, was released in 2016 from Sundress Publications. Find her at jillkhoury.com.