Gut Lust by Rachel Abramowitz

I can’t hunger a normal hunger.
              I watch in October the light
                            which never fills but falls

on the flat black oil spill outside the
              Dunkin’ outside a fishing village outside cell service,
                            or on cell service. A giant net

has me wrapped in underwater weavings,
              connected through oceans like a mad dream,

and sometimes all I want is the way dirt smells
              after it surrenders to a bulb, human heart-sized
                            and hunkering.
Rachel Abramowitz’s poems and reviews have appeared or are forthcoming in The Threepenny Review, Seneca Review, The Kenyon Review Online, Crazyhorse, Tupelo Quarterly, the North American Review, Oxonian Review, POOL, jubilat, Sprung Formal, Transom, Interrupture, Colorado Review, and others. She is a graduate of the Iowa Writers’ Workshop and the University of Oxford, and has taught English Literature at Barnard College in New York.