by Megan Merchant
image @ihor_malytskyi
We use the fattest books to smash spiders, then open to page 49 and read.
Anything can be bible, but I sleep with the book of How to Survive Worst
Case Scenarios under my bed, a baggie of dry wall screws, and duct tape
to hold us together. One article explains that you may feel more scattered
than normal, unable to focus. I close my eyes, and see the spread of Northern
Lights as hearts taped to neighbor’s windows. This too is trauma response.
Before she died, my mother made lists on yellow legal pads, so she would
not forget how to operate the small machinery of her life. They feathered
her cabinets and counters, heavily taped. How many times I’ve been told
that a poem is simply the right words in the right order. I add eye bolts,
sifted flour, scissors, salt.
Megan Merchant lives in the tall pines of Prescott, AZ with her husband and two children. She holds an M.F.A. degree in International Creative Writing from UNLV and is the author of three full-length poetry collections with Glass Lyre Press: Gravel Ghosts (2016), The Dark’s Humming (2015 Lyrebird Award Winner, 2017), Grief Flowers (2018), four chapbooks, and a children’s book, These Words I Shaped for You (Philomel Books). Her latest book, Before the Fevered Snow, was released in April 2020 with Stillhouse Press. She was awarded the 2016-2017 COG Literary Award, judged by Juan Felipe Herrera, the 2018 Beullah Rose Poetry Prize, and most recently, second place in the Pablo Neruda Prize for Poetry. She is an Editor at Pirene’s Fountain and The Comstock Review. You can find her work at meganmerchant.wix.com/poet.