Jenessa VanZutphen - Three Poems

I have made so many mistakes

wore too many pointy shoes, cracked
my knuckles often, bent over my work bench
like a giant parenthesis (lived inside the parentheses),
a cave of sorts. Where I made fires.



All I want is a little fruit

ripening in the heat of noon, ripening
just enough, I say, many oranges
later, a basket I return to
holding myself accountable—a dog
restless in the sun wants to run
and endlessly sitting, swings like wild grass
from room to room.



Container

the need to be held
    filled with leaves I rake then send away
to occupy some other
space. A mess never disappears, it just changes
locations. I call to it, stretched         a phone cord held
by the wall          I say operator
I say intersect tinnitus, little buzzing I can’t turn
off I speak to a buzz. Ask it what it wants for dinner.