WEATHER REPORT WITH TURKEYS
The neighborhood turkey has two girlfriends. They triple shuffle
across the street and my old dog does not know what to think so
he just howls at them through the rain. I slept with my ex
on New Years’ Eve while his girlfriend was upstairs.
She didn’t mind. They have an arrangement. We both like him
despite his politics. Once, we were the three birds at a funeral
when our hearts were large with loss and love made sense.
It’s a strange time to be single. I sleep alone in a converted garage
and dream about floating down a river with a man who has marbled eyes.
My dog wakes me at two in the morning to go outside. I go outside,
and still, I’m single. I love some of my books, their passionate farewells.
I doubt that kind of love will find me. I love the rain and hate it, too,
which must mean it’s true love. I refuse to see my doctor because
I don’t love my body. I let bad health become a part
of my attitude. I learned to love the mess I made of my thirties.
I love the life that comes back to my dog when he sees
the turkeys meander down the wet road. I need them. I need
people. I need to be alone. I need a nap during a downpour.
Everybody, stop. Close your eyes for a minute. Don’t believe
that no one else cares if you’re okay. You’re totally wrong.
I’m telling you this because I love you.
—from Rattle #67, Spring 2020
Students of Kim Addonizio
Tracey Knapp: “The first time I saw Kim Addonizio read was in 2001, but it wasn’t until 2007 that I began working with her. First, I had to go to grad school and study with other teachers who frankly pale in comparison to her influence on my work. Never have I had a teacher who has been so challenging, or so supportive. I’ve been taking almost all of her Oakland workshops for twelve years, and studied with her in Italy last year. I also give Kim a lot of credit for my first book. Most of the poems in that book were written in her workshop. She is a friend, a mentor, and the best teacher I’ve ever had.” (web)