Butter Sunday

Come to the apartment. We are so blessed here.
VeVe, un-gloved, sips from her thin glass—S*an unravels the leather backgammon,
sticks the sourdough in the oven while I who know nothing of bread keep peering in,                                                
interrupting the conversation with psychic speculation.           

              In the past, a war mongering spirit took hold of me     We still speak
              of the blood     years over the village kiln roasting livers with garlic and salt
              Felidae gut        licking butter    arms strong from grinding peppercorn
              & braiding hair.

Now it's somber fun: anytime giggling over homemade applesauce.
An ever-growing fickleness, intuit. Oolong in the hydro flask churning.          

Now I’m human crawling down the hallway on all fours crying, Lambrusco hip rolling
through small space, well-fed:   my consolation.

Gabrielle Octavia Rucker is a self-taught writer and poet from the Great Lakes currently living in the Gulf Coast. Her writing has appeared in various media and publications, including the Sundance Film Festival, The Studio Museum in Harlem, the Academy of American Poets’ Poem-A-Day series, Vogue, GARAGE, Montez Press Radio, and more. She is a 2020 Poetry Project Fellow and 2016 Kimbilio Fiction Fellow. Her debut poetry collection, Dereliction, is forthcoming from The Song Cave (November, 2022).