Alyx Chandler

Curses

I try to be brave
in my body
but who can with 

family like humidity
everyone sweating
out their egos 

the neighbors commenting
on each other’s figure, oh
how much they love 

a barbecue of compliments
served up a little burnt
all of us made fake-sweet 

in coated meat
dad says pick everyone
some tomatoes out back 

throw in a few big ones
show them what a good
year it’s been

I don’t I grab
the skimpy limp-thin
ones contorted fists 

weather-beaten bodies
pile them up in my t-shirt
this cloth bucket 

I hold out
and underneath I let
my own belly hang holy 

I hand them curses
little witch fingers
curled hot peppers, c’mere

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Alyx Chandler (she/her) is a writer from the South who received her MFA in poetry at the University of Montana, where she taught composition and poetry. She is a publicist for Poetry Northwest, a reader for Electric Literature and former poetry editor for CutBank. Her poetry can be found or is forthcoming in Cordella Magazine, Greensboro Review, SWWIM, Anatolios Magazine, Sweet Tree Review and elsewhere. Learn more at alyxchandler.com.