Funneling to a point
like the mold of an upside down
birthday hat: Armadillos,
my neighbor said, scratching a waxy ear.
Little armored ones, evidenced
by the holes they leave behind—
like scat or art, or the memory of
a cradle of arms that once
carried me up to a second
floor apartment, like newlyweds,
his deflated shirt
flung over the back of a chair.
Are we a white vase, or two faces about to kiss?
Both are true, he said.
And if I were anything
other than human,
I would choose a razor-thin snout
and leathery hide,
the impression of invention
and hunger.
But I am merely me without a shell
who once loved.
Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 27, Issue 2.
Julia Wendell’s sixth collection of poems, The Art of Falling, was published by FutureCycle Press in 2022. Another collection, Daughter Days, will be published by Unsolicited Press in 2025. A Pushcart winner and recipient of Fellowships from Breadloaf and Yaddo, her poems have appeared widely. 2023 winner of the Winston-Salem Poetry Award, she is Founding Editor of Galileo Press, lives in Aiken, South Carolina, and is a three-day event rider.
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