Step One
I stood
in a thunderstorm
& stared in the window,
watching them dry
in their home.
The umbrella I carried
I am different from other people
at my side, my mouth
open, some notion
of a chicken, to collect
water. I thought
the family stared back
at me. I thought they gawked &
spoke. That I was beautiful
soaked, a picture. &
I stood
& no one watched me
preen. The slick of a slip
stuck to my body. My body,
home to my diseased
brain. What did the family do?
They counted down.
It never stopped
raining. It never stopped
being cold.
in a thunderstorm
& stared in the window,
watching them dry
in their home.
The umbrella I carried
I am different from other people
at my side, my mouth
open, some notion
of a chicken, to collect
water. I thought
the family stared back
at me. I thought they gawked &
spoke. That I was beautiful
soaked, a picture. &
I stood
& no one watched me
preen. The slick of a slip
stuck to my body. My body,
home to my diseased
brain. What did the family do?
They counted down.
It never stopped
raining. It never stopped
being cold.
Shevaun Brannigan’s work has appeared in Best New Poets, Rhino, Redivider, Slice, and Crab Orchard Review. Her manuscript Why My Mother Is Afraid Of Heights has been named a finalist for University of Wisconsin Press’s Brittingham/Pollak Prize and semi-finalist for Crab Orchard Review’s Book Award. She holds an MFA from Bennington College.