Lucia LoTempio

Facsimile of a Bedroom in the Wheatfield

             Paris le 22 Décembre 1889

I stand on / a platform / at the mouth of / the corn maze / like I just /ran a race / and won. I ready / my breast / for you to throw / theapples. I am / underwhelmed at this / color of violence / and how sexyyou / think to make it. / I’ve seen enough / SVU for this. I will /purple, then yellow, at the smack / of your apple. Here / is what I think:I could / purple, then yellow, at the smack of any / apple. Mon cher,how / can I put it / in a way that doesn’t have me / folded up in thebelly / of a propane tanker? Don’t / worry yourself—I will / get to theclimax—and you won’t / even have to / eavesdrop it / off-screen /while a thinner / victim on the other side / of the winners’ platformcomes / out of her coma. It’s predictable / like that, and then / veryclearly / not predictable / at all. Here, / high above this / field, theweather / is horrible, cold / and grey; almost everyone is / ill—but how/ are you? Is it cold / down there? No— / that’s not the thing of it / —no, I don’t need / to baby you with this / much time—no, / by the timeI get / to the point, the wheat / will rise / above my head, even yours.What I’m asking is what / could be / of action (read: sex) with / you if I/ am impartial to your / apparatus of action (read: ). I am / tired ofyour / body, I am tired ofall / bodies, and I perk / at the hint of/ anybody inside / my body. / Okay, if your body is / the prize / for a race Iwon, please / let me bring myself up / to some board of ethics. / Okay,if I lost / you in this maze, I would / chant left hand to the wall, left / handto the wall until you / found me, if only / for my love / of your left hand.

 

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Lucia hails from Buffalo, NY and is currently an MFA candidate at the University of Pittsburgh. She is a sucker for tiny animals and tiny babies. Her writing was named as a finalist for the Black Warrior Review 10th Annual Contest in Poetry and for the Winter Tangerine Annual Awards. You can find companion poems from this series in The Journal and Washington Square Review.