A Poem by Helen Hofling

Author: Poetry Editor

February 13, 2019

This week, a poem by Helen Hofling.

 

Bloom

 

A flower fell out.
A cucumber sliced me.
An idle thought longed for structure.

I was just watching television,
trying to split my attention.
I was listening to the people outside,
trying to feel less diffuse.

I spoke another language.
One that I never learned.
I tasted something new and it changed me.

Watercolors made me sick.
I was just looking for a little culture.
I thought pastels and bleed would give me
the distraction that my particles need.

The salad was fresh in its bowl.
It revived me after my journey.
The people I met were not what I thought they would be.

Who calls boundlessness a good thing.
Who eats petals who eats wasps who eats doves.

——

HELEN HOFLING is a Baltimore-based writer, editor, and collage-maker. Her recent work can be found in Barrow Street, Berkeley Poetry Review, The Columbia Review, Electric Literature, Hobart, Prelude, and elsewhere. She is a member of the PEN Prison Writing project’s poetry committee and teaches writing at Loyola University Maryland.