What Rough Beast | 07 08 20 | Zoë Fay-Stindt

Zoë Fay-Stindt
Quarantine Inventory of Things You Cannot Do

If exercising, do not go farther than 1 km from your domicile,
do not forget to bring your papers with you. Do not walk

the roman road, do not pet the terrier you pass, do not plunge
into that polluted river. You may pick the rose hips to boil

for tea, strengthen against the deadly thing. You may
empty the house of its liquors, though we strongly advise

against it. You may not touch your mother, may not
bring her small body into your arms when she trembles.

You may not go to your father’s for the last time, may not
plan the funeral, and anyway there won’t be time

or room or money or space to mourn, together, for months.
Do not panic. Do not panic. Do not panic. Do not succumb

to existential dread, or mourn the life you had, so plain and bare
before you, easy walk, easy beer, easy touch of a stranger’s forearm.

Forget forearms. Forget the longing between your legs.
Forget that soft animal of your body, now limp

or overgrown with fur or resentful, and really, if we’re honest,
all three. Cancel the flight. Prod that thing inside you

that scares you so horribly, that sucking privilege. Note how long
it took you in the text to burrow your way into it, note the places

you turn away or step out to use the bathroom or take a break
yes a break, because you are so tired, poor thing in the warm house

with your paid bills. Do not turn to puddle of desperation.
Do not let the despair sink into you like a needle pulling and pulling

life-force out. Do remember your priorities: long-quenched
thirst for solitude, holy commitment to your good

neighbors, these unchosen partners, their anxiousness floating
through your open door like a cloud. Make a list. Pile up the things

you are grateful for, then bless the pile. This is your warrior time,
soft one. Toughen those scales, and go headlong into the current.

—Submitted on 05/14/2020

Zoë Fay-Stindt is a bicontinental poet with roots in both the French and American south. Her poems have appeared in fieldsThe Indianapolis ReviewWinter TangerineRust and MothThe Floating Zo, and others journals.

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