In the swim of days, my period
comes again, too soon (or late?)—when
I’m refreshing statistics, now every other day,
not on the hour, looking for the million milestone
no longer five thousand, fifty, one hundred, two.
now there are eggs in the store, and our liquid soap
supply looks like it might last until… when? the day
we’ve puzzled so long we see jigsaws in the skies?
when our neighbors try on handkerchiefs, or when
they’ve home-stitched pleats? maybe in the time of
pantyhose noses, or after the tissue, discarded
street-side in February, finally melts with the rain.
Isla McKetta is the author of Polska, 1994 (Éditions Checkpointed) and co-author of Clear Out the Static in Your Attic: A Writer’s Guide for Turning Artifacts into Art (Write Bloody). She writes in Seattle and serves on the board of Seattle City of Literature. Find her on Twitter at @islaisreading.