HOW I by Melissa Stein

/ / Issue 10, Poetry

Stupidly. Like a dog,
like drought
flood, like a vole
the hawk lifts screaming
to its first and last
Each want sired
want and I
was drowning in it—
but kept my head
just enough
above the choking
to choke more.
A dog, I said,
or rat pressing
lever unto death.
May we all die wanting
and getting it.