:: Article

When in doubt, throw Grobstein on the table & other poems

By Julia Lewis.

In the Middle of Dishes

After the soap and water, after the wire brush,
after the acetone, after the soak, there is white

hard matter attached to the (old) glassware, in
the micro-distillation kits. So I test the longer

stir bar in one liter of de-ionized water, before
measuring into six weigh boats, the potassium

hydroxide. Add (one) on the half hour, wait to
return to room temperature. Repeat five times.

Add the aqueous potassium hydroxide, to four
liters isopropyl alcohol. Add the round bottom

flasks, 25mL 50mL, to the base bath tub. Rest
and washed remember those dishes await you.

Then open the door, to dry the laundry semen-
less (and god said light) dixitque deum lumen.

Monkeys, Humans, and Whales

The measure of rope sleeping deep inside your pack, wife of monstrosity. In the middle of Moby Dick is the chapter Monkey-Rope. This red try heels out of depth. Look down there blood the sharks their jaws. Bound by hemp, the harpooner is treasure his waist to weight.

Monkey cope; we are wedded by rope. Wife of brain calculate the bulk viscosity, lambda, the blubber the sperm whale was hunted. Posterior to anterior, lambda plus spandrel equals whale. Or change the variable from bulk viscosity to pressure.

To walk the beach monkey-armed, reaching out to trash. With fingers featuring plastics off white or gray or yellow. Do not rotate your big toes. So duh, better the biologist you were. The dead thing, half in the soda can that was so pungent, what was it? Remember the stone you found the night we had wild and not salmon for dinner? The monkey-rose is salmon roe as miniature pink lady apples.

Dear brain of monkey, I played with your words. Retreading the monkey toes are caudal as the heal. Sound the answer out. What creature leaves its tracks for longer than a minute in water? A stone skipped, man swimming. It drinks, the creature takes the water inside itself. To fall is how the water loves you.

When in doubt, throw Grobstein on the table.

I found some toads on the farm in the shade of the boxes filled with fake flowers to scare the horses. The toads scared the horses more, movement is sharper in black and white. Some were crushed to death when the horses shopped dirty and toppled the jumps. Charlie was the first toad I rescued.

Charlie, turned into
a Charlotte because
she was gravid; she
was released near a
river.

This was fair play for toads.

– December 2008

I saw some toads in the wash stall, looking for a bath in moist stone and concrete enclosure. We say that we bathe horses, but with a hose, it more closely resembles a shower. We shower together when the water pressure is good.

Prozac code named:
Zachary, the mascot
of the slippery brain
sodality although he
was not slippery but
leaping all about the
table, never to leave.
Ever the perfect pet,
he stopped peeing in
my hand. He chased
flies, crickets too, on
that computer screen.
He perched on model
horses on a gentle rat
as well. He allowed,
when we flipped him
upside down.

Interpretative fallacy: what is sex a metaphor for?

– 9/2009

I wonder sometimes, what did he do to make himself so big? He who was so anxious.

Mack, the Big Mac sized
toad. He never ceased to
pee on me. It was to him
(them all valid) a defense
mechanism.

My horse was on daily dewormer pellets and empty Strongid C buckets piled up in my living room. These were the green plastic buckets I used for storing and transporting the toads to their new home. The sides to steep and slippery there was no need for a lid or fear of carbon dioxide build up inside. They always survived my driving.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Julia Rose Lewis is a poet, equestrian and a scientist. She is a member of the Moors Poetry Collective of Nantucket.

First published in 3:AM Magazine: Thursday, July 16th, 2015.