
1 poem
by Stevie Belchak
A finalist for both the 2018 Center for Book Arts Poetry Chapbook Contest and the 2019 Boaat Chapbook Prize, Stevie Belchak is a graduate of the English MFA for Poets & Writers at the University of Massachusetts in Amherst. Her creative non-fiction and poetry can be found published in Feelings, Queen Mob's Teahouse, Pinwheel Journal, Hobart Pulp, Blush Lit, Third Coast, Dream Pop Press, Metatron's #MicroMeta series, and JetFuel Review.
I BUY A $60 SCARF TO CREATE A BRIGHT SPOT
April 11, 2020 - Quarantine
leave test tubes
of wine
vinegar
in my kitchen
to keep away
the flies
from all
the dead
I bathe
in my tarnish
the space
I make
between
my legs
anointed
with fashion
labels
and good
running water
I snag
my wool
watch it pull
at the seam
privilege
is so
unsightly
they say
don’t look
but I can’t
help
my words
clamped
at the end
of somewhere
I don’t know
why
the days
have become
so busy
with dying
people
on their phones
we all hold giant
gleams
of worry
up to the sun
like some
kind of worship
of deoxygenated
hearts
60-second
videos
that help us
pause
breathe
they make us
so much less
round
and more
with sorrow
hyperlinking
and curated
I don’t even
feel
like myself
anymore
reading that
as a woman
I have great
buying power
and yet
am deemed
non-
essential
on a divan
I lie
languorous
in a mighty
gown
and triple
pendant
a cozy brand
collab
at my widest
point
I withdraw from
any type
of involvement
it’s so frightening
how I glisten
back lit
and in
a face mask
I made from
old jersey
some kind
of fabulous
helm
my own wild
knightship
I am simply
wading through
monochrome
and meaningless
images
yet another
desperate
nude
on Twitter
to think
this will be
our folklore
making people
go to work
and calling them
heroes
I’m just
so confused
by this
justification
human
error
my shellac
waiting patiently
to shine
over
another
Zoom conference
a spiritualist
in a scoop neck
tells me
to find
and then reverse
my warrior
where the palm trees
cut out
and I think
I would die
for just one more
90s anthem
about my big
black boots
old suit case
is this
being industrious
today
I created a line
here
for you to read
as I menstruated
big fat
diamonds
GIFs
some simple
wellness tools
to keep me
connected
to others
it’s all
seemingly
un-
connected:
courage
emojis
the way we
circulate
blood
I wish
you could see
that I am shook
by your
amassing
mail order
this collective
sadness
a feeling
that gathers
wet
in my pants
with some
pummeled mint
and dirty
vodka
I cheers
to a screen
we’ve entered
some
unforgiving terrain
a plunging
neckline
dying
stock market
it’s all becoming
too much
coming
into the present
just to be
fossilized
in a metronome
of days
we forget
how to count
I think
I want to stop
the lacquer
of waiting
seconds
like horsewhips
edging out
fleas
from our summer
attire
increasing
demands
what is it
with this need
for productivity
I am so tired
of this
kind of tired
being made heavy
by grommets
meta data
my newfound want
for domesticity
I wear a drop
of linen
to our
rustic island
sucking
on anise stars
existential loss
imagining
my future
account
called Baking Soda
& Oil
being a
sort of martyr
for someone
out there
when we are
all alone
at night
I like watching
others
I’ve never met
build their patio
furniture
dye
their hair
dipping in and out
of palpable
streams
o
what
we do
to eat off
another’s
gloved
melancholia
to be in
the same
accumulation
of time