‘If We Are Savage & Lucky II’ by stephanie roberts

i’m afraid of owning a rabbit,
afraid of startled-to-death
or watching a local red-tail
soar off with its easy sandwich.

i’m trying to evade
the love that stakes me.

when we meet, you will say, ...

then i laugh, responding,
don’t fall in love with me,
because we have too late,
like tragedy forming marrow,
metastasizing in bone.

someone said:
sunrise is a nightmare to the sunburned.
brown don’t burn in the sun.
sugar, do you?

this morning i ate oysters, eggs,
and the last bit of cake,
flaunting my alpha predator state.

was i the only one who
stepped on cracks
hoping to break my mother’s back?

we do what we can
and if we hunt lucky
we do what we can’t.

From issue #8: spring/summer 2019

About the Author
stephanie roberts is a previous contributor. Born in Central America, she resides in Québec, Canada. Her work is featured or forthcoming in Crannóg , Verse Daily, L’Éphémère Review, and The Poetry Annals. A 2018 Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominee, her work has recently been translated into Farsi.