Mary Ford Neal

O California

after Danez Smith

California’s an empty page, but scented like a candle
so you have to write over someone’s idea of loveliness.
Nomatter how delicate the fragrance, I could write
a fist. I could write a swollen eye. I could write a lie. Perhaps
a little blasphemy is okay. Bruises are not okay
in California. Perhaps I bother about bruises
but don’t even notice my snapped neck.

Whatever you do, don’t move me. 

I’m resting on the lip of an ocean, and I want the ocean
badly, but not this one. This one spits cold.
I need the one so vast its edges are always gentle.
I’ve told them that by evening I’ll be on a plane. I know
if I could get to California it would sand me smooth.
I know if I could get to California I could die big,
die pacific, melt into the horizon like a god.

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Mary Ford Neal is a writer and academic from the west of Scotland. She is the author of two poetry collections: Dawning (Indigo Dreams, 2021) and Relativism (Taproot Press, 2022). Her poems are published/forthcoming in various magazines and anthologies, including The Interpreter’s House, Bad Lilies, One Hand Clapping, Long Poem Magazine, Ink Sweat and Tears, Dust and Atrium. Mary is an assistant editor of Nine Pens Press and 192 Magazine.