to drink is to drown and other wet season notes by Emory Brinson

It has been raining in my hometown for 14 weeks
We stalk the muddy grasslands
Always wet and wild: half feral
Crush bruised peaches; suck on battered pits,
Even that taste has been watered down. Wilted
I watch you wring a snake's neck and snatch a doll from the current,
Cinch the beast’s skin around your wrist and burn the plastic child:
Offering of innocence. We tie artificial hair around our fingers
And dip our toes in the toxic sludge. No use for vows or diamonds
The moon slivers and balloons, refuses to provide anything else
We pack into the upstairs bathroom like sardines
Knees and elbows and shadows banging into fish tank clamor
A tornado warning quivers through us one by one
It has been raining in my hometown for 17 weeks
We drink anything but water
Lemon juice and piss poor beer and spit from someone else’s mouth
This wet season I make it a point to trace I love you in the constant condensation
To say it again and again as each new deluge wipes the slate clean
The power flickers in and out and we grow accustomed to darkness
To find you in the black, to drag your sopping corpse from
The half-inch of water on the kitchen floor
That is my act of true devotion
The wet seeps into each crack and crevice of the house
A leak of epic and tsunamic proportions
The body, just one more broken promise/downed levy, is inescapable I drink. I douse. I drown.
It has been raining in my hometown for 20 weeks
And the rescue crews have finally begun to emerge
They come at night, waterbugs and boats following the current to
where you are most vulnerable; You have to let us in to rescue you!
I take my chances
You fade into TV static and silence and sour breath
What else is there to say?
I mark my own piecemeal remains with pond sludge
Climb to the last dry spot and watch a flame catch, burn out
Hurricane season when it is least expected. Drowning on dry land.
Emory Brinson is at Brown University studying literary arts and policy. She has been recognized by Scholastic and the National YoungArts Foundation. Recently she was a finalist for the Passages North Elinor Benedict Poetry Prize. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Cargoes, VULCANALIA '21, and The Apiary Magazine. @brinson_emory