What I Could Say, and: Genealogy, and: Goblin Man
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What I Could Say
Inside my skin there are broken bottles,leads of pencils and a metal plate.My heart is empty.Stripped of walls, there are pillarsholding up nothing but sky.I fall in on myself.A room of concrete and thingsyou do not know—
Genealogy
Imagine you have a poet for a father. Imagine he is missing a pen. Books of whiteness. A daughter craving punctuation.Imagine you have a poet for a father. His ink leaks everywhere. Books of blots. Another daughter craving words.Imagine your father is missing. This makes more sense. No books. No pen. Just daughters. Raising each other.
Goblin Man
twilight is not good for maidens
I am just a childwith no sister here.
I wear extra underwearto keep my skin from you.
My door is unlockedbecause there is no key.
Spill your honeydown someone else’s throat.
I know this harvestwill last my adolescence.
You picked me for my fruit. [End Page 501]
Kelsey Erin Shipman is a poet, performer, and educator. She teaches writing to senior citizens at the public library, undergraduates at Texas State University, and inmates at the Travis County Jail. Her poems have recently appeared in the Austin Chronicle, Sagebrush Review, and Borderlands: Texas Poetry Review. A native Texan, she loves big dogs and breakfast tacos. Read more of her work at kelseyshipman.com.
