top of page

C.N.P Poetry 

21

  • Writer: Cathexis Northwest Press
    Cathexis Northwest Press
  • Jul 1, 2020
  • 1 min read

By: Adele Slaughter


I told my friend,

Your God is a miser,

stingy with a black heart,

wrinkled like a raisin

no, even a dried fruit is too plump.

His chest is hard coal.

It’s the way we were raised—

pulled up from our boot straps

spanked, shoved against a wall.

I get it …I get it.

It’s why I can take so much,

but my patience has snapped,

a belt cracking on my back.

I can take it, but don’t want to.


No one really believes we were set

on this world only to be told

you’re not worthy,

and yet this is what we tell our selves

inside our chests,

small beats

hardening.




 

Adele Slaughter is a poet living in Los Angeles. Her short film, Jealousy, (2014) is based on her novel of the same name was seen in several film festivals. She received her M.F.A. in poetry from Columbia University. Slaughter’s first book of poems, What The Body Remembers was published by Story Line Press in 1994 and is being reprinted by Red Hen Press in 2020. Her poems have appeared in Tupelo Press 30 in 30 Project and other small magazines. She is seeking a publisher for a new book of poetry titled, 100 Days, a blessing, a curse. Currently, she is writing a book of non-fiction.


 
 
 

Recent Posts

See All
December

By: Benjamin Rose An elegy for my youth Would that this house were forever empty And unending Winter never knew thaw, That I might bear...

 
 
 

Comments


bottom of page