On the Way to Sappho, Washington by Dujie Tahat

we pass Kitchen-

Dick Road

which we joke

is a great start

to a terrible porno

several miles

later Poverty

Lane of course

private rusted sunken

houses between

because of the pop

ulation of where I grew

up she asks if I

consider myself

from a rural town

of course I say you

see that house

over there

the one that’s close

to abandoned but isn’t

I’ve lived

in that house

I know the families

that live in that

house I’m just in

terested in an aesthetic

of elaboration an

aesthetic of the ad

orned and well

kept so I had to

leave we get there late

the sun nearly gone

informality is how

I signal my body

a slip of mortality

the real practice

is being happy

you were interrupted

at all when we cross Hood

Canal on the floating

bridge she likes

to remind me

it’s one of the deepest

parts of the o

cean this close to a

shore I know I say

look and point

to the sub

marines I joke

nuclear war

would start here

a joke because it’s

true and we’re not

ready for that

kind of honesty yet

we broke up

the night before

I’ve been deep

in depression

for weeks months

probably I love her

but can’t reach

across can’t

lift my hand

to find hers

and look I know

this can only go

on for so long

yet that know

ing sinks me

further she could

leave should really

some call me

rude to her

face but the waves crash

ing onto La Push

don’t give a fuck

about my authenticity

my confidence

betrays me the ex

change of fluids

any fluid is vulgar

and I love it

every thing has a form

so when I

smack my rouge lips

in the city

I’m smacking my rouge

lips in the city my

body of work is

more than where

my body ends

which I both

like and don’t like

it means you can

catch me but you don’t

we’re out of cell range

so we don’t know

yet that the presi

dent is tweeting

to provoke war he has

an election to win

so another war

war war war

where war a war there

for more wares

at the bar

a kid in camo wears

war we are war

where are we war

ring now war are we

we the war

the Greeks thought

Persians sounded like

barbar barbarbar so

we’re off to an

other barbarwar

it makes no sense

she’s hurt

so she screams

I’m hurt so I don’t

speak at all

I have lived multiple

roles for a while I

know the moment

I say one

thing another appears

in the shadow of the water

tower on the out

skirts of my

nearly-dissolved-town

mind I have abandon

ment issues I take issue

with abandonment

as a way to describe

where I grew up

which I admit I still do

sometimes but look

towns are not triggers

triggers are triggers

bombs are bombs

my cousins are blood

in the boot

heal of war footing

looking away

from the problem

can be a kind of

grace she pulls me

towards the beach

the ocean makes oblivion

look so seductive I need

a here to go

there yes I have fixed

poles I just don’t

live anythere anymore look

I swear I’m happy

my feet are just

wet I hadn’t planned

for my feet to get wet

---

DUJIE TAHAT is a poet and critic living and working in Washington state. They are the fifth Seattle Civic poet and author of the full-length poetry collection Shibboleth (Fonograf 2027) as well as three poetry chapbooks: Here I Am O My God, selected for a Poetry Society of America Chapbook Fellowship; Salat, winner of the Tupelo Press Sunken Garden Chapbook Award and longlisted for the 2020 PEN/Voelcker Award; and Balikbayan, finalist for The New Michigan Press / DIAGRAM chapbook contest and the Center for Book Arts honoree. Along with Luther Hughes and Gabrielle Bates, they cohost The Poet Salon podcast.

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