Prey Space in Geographies

A boy hits an orange open with his baseball bat

and the pieces fly through prey space

 

A bird could, in perfect imitation,         fall

worldly and practical into the distance out

 

Where the land takes bodies that it cannot 

keep, that it will leave dead and unexplored

 

in the small reach of shallow water

where heat is trapped and cooled

 

The wide river of          the innermost

The wide river of          the uncountable 

 

Private hells re-conceived under the 

promise of purpose, the propriety of being

 

I left my fingers in the door of the 

prey space bathroom and felt it close

 

I want to be told that I am subtle 

in prey space, with my own limbs at a               minimum

 

The ferocious want for nothing is 

the full knowledge of desire, look at what 

 

can be afforded in prey space. Look at 

what I have made available only             here

 

The bodies on the shore, the parts never again 

whole, the flesh of your own ruminant animal.

Grace Sutphin is originally from South Carolina, but currently lives in Louisville, Kentucky. Her poem Murmurations won second place in Sarabande Book's 2020 Flo Gault Poetry Prize.

©2018 HighShelfPress. 

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Instagram