Staring Contest on Cannon Beach
If we craned our necks and squinted,
it was to thank light for color;
if they craned their necks and squinted,
it was to remind us of ours.
The Sun here reminds us:
we are ash in their fire, but what makes us
does not burn easily. When we hold it close,
we are fireproof.
We must be their seagulls;
peppering blue broth and salted yolk,
flavoring their horizon showing
how golden
brown is.
We must be their crabs;
underneath an ocean bearing the weight of
a thousand leagues of a thousand years of
bearing the weight of breaking glass ceilings.
We must be their stars,
ignored in the daytime.
We must be their shade,
coolest amongst ourselves.
art by Pragna Gaddamedi (@prgs.jpeg)1
Poetry Tip of the Day!
I wrote the first draft of this poem during my brief three month stay in Portland, OR during an internship in college. While I was grateful for the opportunity to stay outside of Texas and get paid to do it, I did not like Portland. I made both great friends and great memories that Summer, but on a personal level, I felt soberly conscious of my identity for what felt like the first time. Seeing differences in treatment from coworkers and day-to-day interactions with regular Portlandians reminded me that I’m not being excluded from this place; but I definitely don’t belong. I decided that Fall not to return to Portland, but I did get some unique poems out of the experience—poet’s silver lining.
return of the beast