by Melissa Studdard
We hid in the belly of porcelain. The world
sang sirens overlapping, the sound of wind
taking gates from the hinge. That whistling, yes.
Whistling and whipping, the world the cry
of a cow caught in the spin of a twister and lifted.
Water creeping to the back door like a thief.
It wanted the jewels of our eyes.
In the house next door, a woman breastfed
another woman’s baby, the thin-sweet milk.
Across the street, a man wrote social security numbers
on his kids’ arms with a Sharpie—a game, he said.
And in our tub we held the news in our palms:
forty dogs from a kennel rescued by boat, a guy
on paddleboard heaving toddlers from a window, one
by one. And trapped across town, a shop full
of bakers sleeping on flour sacks, baking all day—
they slept and baked, slept and sprinkled.
For whoever might need. Not even sampling
or licking a finger. Once, I thought humankind
brutal and nature benign—foolish child
with my frog in a box, my holey lid.
Once, before, I asked to be delivered.
O sugar-hungry God, the world
has been dredged and is waiting.
__________________
Illustration/Sculpture by Courtney Bennett
New Ohio Review 
Very evocative pictures here.
A storm at sea on land.
Where to go?
And no atheists here.
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Melissa managed to gather humanity within its porcelain soul with such sculpted specificity and surprise. My utter joy at the leap of bakers on their flour sacks baking into the long night. I absolutely love this poem. It took my breath way.
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Reblogged this on Melissa Studdard and commented:
Many thanks to New Ohio Review for publishing this poem about my experiences during Hurricane Harvey. I’m especially grateful to editor David Wanczyk, who generously spent a lot of time helming me fine tune it.
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*helping, not helming 🙂
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It’s a beautiful poem… 3rd day in title itself explains a lots of aftermath and the way Melissa walked across the hurricane with her pen is nothing but pure brilliance… Kudos to the writer…
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There’s a beautiful imagery built in the midst of sorrowful consequences.
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