Episode #155 Buttercream w/Special Guest Caitlin Scarano

Connor and Jack are joined by special guest Caitlin Scarano to discuss the poem "Buttercream" from her new collection THE NECESSITY OF WILDFIRE. The collection won the Wren Poetry Prize, selected by final judge Ada Limón. Scarano discusses the poem, the collection, and the ways her work has taken what she describes as an "environmental turn" since completing THE NECESSITY OF WILDFIRE. She also talks about some of her upcoming projects that blend art with environmental action.

Order a copy of the book, here: https://www.blairpub.com/shop/necessity-of-wildfire

Learn more about Caitlin Scarano,

here:https://www.caitlinscarano.com/

Buttercream

By: Caitlin Scarano

I cut open an avocado only to find it dappled

with rot. I eat it anyway. Because my blood

burns, I decide not to have children. My father's

father was full of copper. His son, a liver

textured with scarring. I ate it anyway.

I asked for guidance, not a leash and a collar.

I turn my belly inside out - it's dappled

with eggs the color of buttercream. My hens

don't know which are fertilized

and which aren't. My mother lost her wedding

ring in vegetable garden dirt. I dig

out the rot. I say I decided

not to have children but no man

ever asked me and meant it. If each parent gives you

a defective gene, you can bake a cake

or crawl across the floor between buckets

of your own blood. I dig but never find

the ring. Some hens sit on eggs

until they rot. Some men take hammers

to their wives. My lover yawns.

Of all the stories I could tell, I've learned

of all the stories you could tell. Her blood

burned. My mother made a red

velvet cake with buttercream frosting.

She ate the whole thing. She never told anyone

who believed her. He might have been

sick his whole broken bowl

of a life. I might find a golden ring

around my iris. I might not

be a creature versed in dirt. Anger,

like a memory, takes away as much

as it provides. Some hens leave their eggs

where they land. Either way, we

follow. We gather. We eat them.

Find us on Facebook at: facebook.com/closetalking


Find us on Twitter at: twitter.com/closetalking


Find us on Instagram: @closetalkingpoetry

You can always send us an e-mail with thoughts on this or any of our previous podcasts, as well as suggestions for future shows, at [email protected].