- In Summer
You left a bowl of fruit on your kitchen table ripening rotting with imperceptible movement splitting open with its mushy overpowering sweet odor of neglected summer seeds and stones struggling for earth
You lay on the white hospital bed ripening the fruit of your body unable to burst open molds in fluid containment covered by a white yeast visible in your mouth when you speak invisible in your esophagus, vagina it is the summer of your life
I remember photographs in restaurant windows as we walked on the Danforth last year anglo greek dishes ‘gyros,’ ‘donar kebabs’ pita bread wrapping its labia caress around olive folds of sliced meat and tzatziki white, yeasty fluid yoghurty and thick coating everything and I remember how we laughed.
Works by Jill Battson
• In Summer
• Ashes Of A Loved One
Jill Battson is author of one book of poems, Elvis Is Everywhere, and three poetry chapbooks, Fifteen LA Poems, Fifteen Sensual Poems, and Fifteen Toronto Poems. She lives in Canada.