May 17—The Down Closes Up 10625

By SUSAN BRIANTE

Farid says he wants to be a family,
he adds, by which I mean I don’t want you to die.


Arizona gnaws at the constitution.

I want to tell him that since
I was a child I have dreamed
of feeling like this, by which I mean safe.
Instead we talk about the baby.
She will cry a lot the first days
her skin in clothes, the air,
darkness and light, touch and taste
will shock her to tears.

I just read that somewhere.

Outside, temperatures filibuster spring.
The Dow “eyes” jobs, uses
a variety of special characters,
while we find a hole in the birdfeeder,
count box tops for a water bottle,
enter contests for a green home.

Suzuki compares existence to wrenching a droplet of water from a stream.
As water falls
separated by wind and rocks,

we are separated from oneness, then we have feeling.

 

 

Susan Briante is the author of Pioneers in the Study of Motion, Utopia Minus, and the chapbook The Market Is a Parasite That Looks Like a Nest, part of an ongoing lyric investigation of the stock market.

Click here to purchase Issue 03

From the beginning, The Common has brought you transportive writing and exciting new voices. We are committed to supporting writers and maintaining free, unrestricted access to our website, but we can’t do it without you. Become an integral part of our global community of readers and writers by donating today. No amount is too small. Thank you!

May 17—The Down Closes Up 10625

Related Posts

top 10 pieces 2025

The Most-Read Pieces of 2025

Browse a list of the ten most-read new pieces of 2025 to get a taste of what left an impact on readers. 2025 was a momentous year for The Common: our fifteenth anniversary, our 30th issue, even a major motion picture based on a story in the magazine.

The Ground That Walks

ALAA ALQAISI
We stepped out with our eyes uncovered. / Gaza kept looking through them— / green tanks asleep on roofs, a stubborn gull, / water heavy with scales at dawn. // Nothing in us chose the hinges to slacken. / The latch turned without our hands. / Papers practiced the border’s breath.