Natasha Rao
Website
Genre
Latitude
by
2 editions
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published
2021
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American Chordata Issue 11
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The Sourland Mountains
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* Note: these are all the books on Goodreads for this author. To add more, click here.
“IN MY NEXT LIFE LET ME BE A TOMATO
lusting and unafraid. In this bipedal incarnation
I have always been scared of my own ripening,
mother standing outside the fitting room door.
I only become bright after Bloody Mary’s, only whole
in New Jersey summers where beefsteaks, like baubles,
sag in the yard, where we pass down heirlooms
in thin paper envelopes and I tend barefoot to a garden
that snakes with desire, unashamed to coil and spread.
Cherry Falls, Brandywine, Sweet Aperitif, I kneel
with a spool, staking and tying, checking each morning
after last night’s thunderstorm only to find more
sprawl, the tomatoes have no fear of wind and water,
they gain power from the lightning, while I, in this version
of life, retreat in bed to wither. In this life, rabbits
are afraid of my clumsy gait. In the next, let them come
willingly to nibble my lowest limbs, my outstretched
arm always offering something sweet. I want to return
from reincarnation’s spin covered in dirt and
buds. I want to be unabashed, audacious, to gobble
space, to blush deeper each day in the sun, knowing
I’ll end up in an eager mouth. An overly ripe tomato
will begin sprouting, so excited it is for more life,
so intent to be part of this world, trellising wildly.
For every time in this life I have thought of dying, let me
yield that much fruit in my next, skeleton drooping
under the weight of my own vivacity as I spread to take
more of this air, this fencepost, this forgiving light.”
― Latitude
lusting and unafraid. In this bipedal incarnation
I have always been scared of my own ripening,
mother standing outside the fitting room door.
I only become bright after Bloody Mary’s, only whole
in New Jersey summers where beefsteaks, like baubles,
sag in the yard, where we pass down heirlooms
in thin paper envelopes and I tend barefoot to a garden
that snakes with desire, unashamed to coil and spread.
Cherry Falls, Brandywine, Sweet Aperitif, I kneel
with a spool, staking and tying, checking each morning
after last night’s thunderstorm only to find more
sprawl, the tomatoes have no fear of wind and water,
they gain power from the lightning, while I, in this version
of life, retreat in bed to wither. In this life, rabbits
are afraid of my clumsy gait. In the next, let them come
willingly to nibble my lowest limbs, my outstretched
arm always offering something sweet. I want to return
from reincarnation’s spin covered in dirt and
buds. I want to be unabashed, audacious, to gobble
space, to blush deeper each day in the sun, knowing
I’ll end up in an eager mouth. An overly ripe tomato
will begin sprouting, so excited it is for more life,
so intent to be part of this world, trellising wildly.
For every time in this life I have thought of dying, let me
yield that much fruit in my next, skeleton drooping
under the weight of my own vivacity as I spread to take
more of this air, this fencepost, this forgiving light.”
― Latitude
“Latitude
Back then I was committed to the color blue, felt moved
to paint my walls, nails, furniture the same shade of teal.
Now my body swells at the window with casual longing.
Do you believe in saltwater gargling. As a cure. At the gas
station I felt proud to specify it was the navy lighter we
wanted. Often the bravest thing I do all day is open my
mouth. On every beach washes up the memory of some
other beach when I didn’t evaluate my own body. Last
night Orion’s Belt filled me with dread because everyone
I have shown it to has exited my life with no warning. Still,
I couldn’t help myself. The light was brief and obvious.”
― Latitude
Back then I was committed to the color blue, felt moved
to paint my walls, nails, furniture the same shade of teal.
Now my body swells at the window with casual longing.
Do you believe in saltwater gargling. As a cure. At the gas
station I felt proud to specify it was the navy lighter we
wanted. Often the bravest thing I do all day is open my
mouth. On every beach washes up the memory of some
other beach when I didn’t evaluate my own body. Last
night Orion’s Belt filled me with dread because everyone
I have shown it to has exited my life with no warning. Still,
I couldn’t help myself. The light was brief and obvious.”
― Latitude
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