The Juicy Poem

Poetry, Olivia Kamer

You must buy the watermelon

 with Tajín

  at Venice beach 

   You must massage the kale

    in maple syrup

     and order one passionfruit

      panna cotta, and then another

       Flourless chocolate cake

        that glues together 

         your lips and tongue

          You must learn to distinguish

         between the taste 

        of Camel Crush and 

       American Spirit

      and wine that’s all

     natural or soaking in 

    sulfites. You must spread

   your legs on the beach for

  the man who says 

 your name like a spell. He 

will show your body it’s

 beautiful and then leave

  and you won’t mind at all

   You must resist the urge to send 

     a letter to a different

      man explaining every dream

       you’ve ever had–it will be

        too literal for him, 

         not enough metaphor 

          for his fucking. You will mind, 

           you will mind quite a lot.You 

             must start wearing heels,

              taking up space, making 

               your thoughts other peoples’ 

              problem. You must slip 

             into the vacuum they all 

            live in, you must dance, 

           you must watch TV all day 

          with the curtains drawn

         You must let the cat fall 

        asleep purring on your foot, 

      making your way slowly

     through the to-be-read books

    You must eat the cake from 

   a knife held by fingers that 

  were once inside you

 Drink martinis extra dirty 

and cry, let your makeup

  run in black rivers. You 

    must put your fingers in 

      someone else. Watch them

        quiver. Nap in the middle 

          of the day, buy forty-dollar

            candles, brush your hair 

              one hundred times a night

                You must reapply your 

              stolen lipstick. Reapply, 

            reapply, reapply. Dream of

          blood oozing down your door

        Tap your friends’ teeth with

       a painted nail. Check the oven,

    check the door, check your

  feet. Make tea. Reconsider 

the abandoned novel 

    Someone might care that 

        you wrote it, it’s possible

            It’s possible that men love

                it when you’re mean and hate 

                    it when you shatter any mirrors

                        It’s possible that the old lady 

                            from the grocery store was

                        a guide. Somewhere within

                    her carpet bag is a map 

                and in your mind you travel 

            to her and get it. It’s a 

        circle, but then again, you 

    already knew that

You must order the beets, 

        the burrata, the risotto,

                the cobbler. You must 

                        suck on olives and 

                              suck on fingers. It’s 

                                  possible both will destroy

                                                     you but the map says 

                                  it’s worth a shot. You must

                              think of something epic while

                       you come. It’s possible

               this spell will work and 

          it’s possible that you can will

anything you want into 

                   existence. It’s possible that 

                                                        chamomile is the 

                                                                       holiest thing on earth 

                                             and no one knows it but 

                  you. It’s possible they’re

           all still in love. It’s 

possible you must abide 

you must abide you must 

abide you must abide

Somewhere out there is 

the perfect flower. You 

must continue on

going Say 

your farewells

Keep 

reading

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Olivia Kamer is a writer living in Los Angeles. Her written work has been published in Spectra, Soft Qtrly, The Dollhouse, and elsewhere. She has also self-published four chapbooks of poetry.