THE HEDGEHOG BLOG

For I cannot remember how many years, Marge Piercy's work, from somewhat silly to edgy, from giddy to screamingly painful has said what I was thinking. Dammit, this is no exception. I read this today for the first time. It's from THE CROOKED INHERITANCE, published in 2006.

AT THE CORE OF LOVING, FEAR

I fear the government, lightning, car crashes.
I fear food poisoning, fire, coyotes.
I fear war, the hatred of women, of Jews.
I fear blindness and cancer and ticks.

But the fear that intertwines my spine
creeping from belly to brain --
a poison ivy vine circling an oak --
is to outlive you and march grimly on.

The terror at the core of every long
and bone deep love is that I may
survive into the empty rooms,
nights of neglect and dusty throat

parched from too much silence,
loneliness eating me hollow the way
tiny parasitic wasps hatch to devour
a hornworm from the inside.

I feel myself doomed as a caterpillar
who subsists on the leaf of a single
plant and that rare and threatened.
You are my daily bread and joy.

We are so intertangled that pulling
one away leaves not a single person
but a part, for we together make a whole
greater than the sum of our hearts.

© Marge Piercy

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2015-03-02 11:18 PM The poet who is always right Previous Entry :: Next Entry Read/Post Comments (0) Share on Facebook	For I cannot remember how many years, Marge Piercy's work, from somewhat silly to edgy, from giddy to screamingly painful has said what I was thinking. Dammit, this is no exception. I read this today for the first time. It's from THE CROOKED INHERITANCE, published in 2006. AT THE CORE OF LOVING, FEAR I fear the government, lightning, car crashes. I fear food poisoning, fire, coyotes. I fear war, the hatred of women, of Jews. I fear blindness and cancer and ticks. But the fear that intertwines my spine creeping from belly to brain -- a poison ivy vine circling an oak -- is to outlive you and march grimly on. The terror at the core of every long and bone deep love is that I may survive into the empty rooms, nights of neglect and dusty throat parched from too much silence, loneliness eating me hollow the way tiny parasitic wasps hatch to devour a hornworm from the inside. I feel myself doomed as a caterpillar who subsists on the leaf of a single plant and that rare and threatened. You are my daily bread and joy. We are so intertangled that pulling one away leaves not a single person but a part, for we together make a whole greater than the sum of our hearts. © Marge Piercy Read/Post Comments (0) Previous Entry :: Next Entry Back to Top
:: HOME :: GET EMAIL UPDATES :: International Rescue Committee :: Brady Campaign to END GUN VIOLENCE :: Americans for Responsible Solutions :: David Zinn, artist :: Wendy Goldberg :: Kiva - microlending :: SQUISHIES!!!! :: Sluggo! Ann Arbor's Foremost two dimensional resident :: Mr. Monkey! :: Give Free books! :: Flying Spaghetti Monster! :: Matthew Shepard Foundation :: THE BLUE CARD :: Kickstarter :: EMAIL ::