I Do Not Wait
By Trish Hopkinson
—for Walt Whitman
nor am I dismissed.
I set myself apart, do not tremble
beneath terms—cold
manly, butch, ball-breaker
bitch—do not determine my worth
by whom I am kept.
I ratchet skyward
take my place at the sun’s table
lifted by turquoise bone & bladed wings.
My scarab shell snubs boot heels
scurries and flutters solo
& yes, I possess myself.
I will not be held in a fist
pinned or stuffed in a case
pierced beneath glass.
I seat you in a room waiting
nude, simple & flaccid, unable
to siphon one more drop of sap.
My body is not yours to be dammed
instead, it releases grace in white waves
& demands nothing of anyone
but myself. I penetrate no one.
I illuminate the paths
of the unwaiting.
Trish Hopkinson is a poet, blogger, and advocate for the literary arts. You can find her online at SelfishPoet.com and provisionally in Utah, where she runs the regional poetry group Rock Canyon Poets and folds poems to fill Poemball machines for Provo Poetry. Her poetry has been published in several lit mags and journals, including Tinderbox, Glass Poetry Press, and The Penn Review; her third chapbook Footnote was published by Lithic Press in 2017, and her most recent e-chapbook Almost Famous was published by Yavanika Press in 2019. Hopkinson will happily answer to labels such as atheist, feminist, and empty nester; and enjoys traveling, live music, and craft beer.
Photo by Ines Álvarez Fdez on Unsplash.