Cancer season


Season of breaking from grabs. Creatures graduate their songs
against the shore, hollowed to scour or salt. A sun burns, someone
throws a flame, season of mothering, amethyst season. I buy
the cheap wax. Buy the tongue on a street that is sandless. Shells crack,
seasonless, shavings leaching their water into the glass. I lick the time into
my wrist, cut vegetable on cut tooth: Here, cup season, Here,
thunder shortcircuiting my nudes—Pickled Hour, Once Flooded, Dark Moon
Spit Up, Sour Puddle of Sparks, Birthmark Wet and Deepening—

Anne Marie Rooney is the author of No Beautiful (Carnegie Mellon University Press, 2018) and Spitshine (Carnegie Mellon University Press, 2012). Her poetry has been twice featured in the Best American Poetry anthology, and has been the recipient of the Iowa Review Award, the Gulf Coast Poetry Prize, and others. She lives in Baltimore.