Time to Make Something New
Blue hydrangea looks fake in the vase.
So many things stuffed
In these living quarters.
Dust dancing in the sunlight
From the summer outside.
Mussy burgundy rugs,
A picture of my late father
Looking on from behind the clutter.
An empty box from the toothpaste
Begging to be recycled.
I spear a prune with a trident,
Quiet the creeping panic,
Sequester spiraling thoughts,
Sip the green tea,
Decline the fries
And an extra plate.
Lonesome childhood times
In the hoarded apartment
Long gone, and that apartment
Was cleansed.
Its memory stayed
On the other side of the world
In a war-ravaged country.
We are here, now, and things
Are again changing,
History repeating itself
In ways more than one.
Family story winds forward
Across the ocean.
Guerilla Medicine
I dreamt that I had my kidneys removed -
Not one but both -
For no apparent reason.
The doctor asked, Are you sure?
I said, Yeah, and laid face down
On a massage table.
I hadn’t weighed the pros and cons.
The inevitability carried me theretofore
In an odd emotionally absent way.
It was as if I both knew but also not
That kidneys mattered.
I received a quick numbing injection,
And then my kidneys were gone.
The doctor suggested
That I kept laying on my stomach.
My body didn’t notice the difference
In the alternate reality of the dream.
Incomprehensible choice to get rid of one’s kidneys
But also, what an unnerving world
Where I am both able to do things unchecked,
And at the same time have no decision power.
Zoya Davis-Hamilton grew up in the Soviet Union, lived in Ukraine, New York City, Arkansas, and now Boston. Zoya goes through life overthinking, building communities and friendships, and drinking tea. Zoya’s poems were recently published in the Trident Poetry Collective Anthology With Gritted Teeth and in the anthology Static in Our Stars by Wingless Dreamer Publisher.
DIY MFA 