Digest

The trouble with reading poetry, is that poems are very filling.
After consuming each, I feel very much,
like I do on Thanksgiving.
A little tired
overstuffed and contemplative
a little sick,
as though I cannot take on any more.

A novel is not the same.
A novel is a bucket of popcorn.
I’m not full until my greasy fingers
brush against the cardboard bottom.
I seem to have unlimited capacity to take it in.

A memoir is a salad. Healthy.
Diverse and tasty. Both dense and juicy.
It requires decisions and takes time to
take it all in.
I finish satiated, proud of my good decisions.

But a poem is a full meal, in a short sitting.
I don’t have room for two.
When it’s finished, I wish it hadn’t been so fast,
that I had savored more.
It takes time to digest,
to nurture,
to become mine,
to energize this body, heart, and mind,
to become something new,
here
inside.

Nichole M. Dulin

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