Nothing Like a Shipment of Pears


My brain more tilt 

than opening. 

I am in a store 

buying bread

with my mother. 

The long aisles 

of my memory

surface unexpectedly.

A friend’s body unwinds itself.

In the slowest of panic. 

I’m tired of hearing.

I don’t write anymore

but hold each pose

like a fence of lights. 

In the operating room 

my body’s theatre 

sliced open to applause.

When I wake

there are enough 

miniature clothes

for a baby and a dog.

Carrie Bennett is a Massachusetts Cultural Council Artist Fellow and the author of biography of water, The Land Is a Painted Thing, and several chapbooks. Carrie’s poems have recently been published in Ghost Proposal, jubilat, Pangyrus, and South Dakota Review, Tinderbox, among others. Carrie is a graduate of the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, and currently teaches writing at Boston University. Carrie lives in Somerville with her family where she can be found walking her Corgi and sitting in the sun.