stdClass Object
(
    [ID] => 21666
    [post_author] => 23
    [post_date] => 2021-06-18 09:03:43
    [post_date_gmt] => 2021-06-18 09:03:43
    [post_content] => After Gaia Rajan

The horizon ruptures in the shape of my name.
Dana, Dana, it calls while I sleep on my belly
in the woods. I will dream about the sky,

how it unfolds like a bruised lid, how deer
dung marks constellations in the dirt.
Later, I will drive myself across town.

I will run laps around the track until I have no more breath
to give. Every note of birdsong sounds
like it is mine. I sweat into my palms.

Nearby, there is a statue of a dead woman
and I can’t remember her name. Only that she lived
once and died between my textbook pages.

I call her Dana and wonder if she kept her promises.
Her mouth stays sewn to her cheeks. When I go
home, I shower and still smell like pine needles.

I will never be clean. I believe this so much I let
the water collect anywhere but on my skin.
At sunset, I lock myself indoors. Anyone

that knows me is dead. I am built
of stone. I bury the pretty bird under the trees.
then dutifully slice the tires on my car.

My stomach cramps. I do not sleep. I stare
at the horizon until it melts. When I die,
tell the sky I’ll dream about its name.
    [post_title] => Sharon, Massachusetts
    [post_excerpt] => 
    [post_status] => publish
    [comment_status] => closed
    [ping_status] => closed
    [post_password] => 
    [post_name] => sharon-massachusetts
    [to_ping] => 
    [pinged] => 
    [post_modified] => 2021-06-18 09:03:43
    [post_modified_gmt] => 2021-06-18 09:03:43
    [post_content_filtered] => 
    [post_parent] => 0
    [guid] => https://poems.poetrysociety.org.uk/?post_type=poems&p=21666
    [menu_order] => 0
    [post_type] => poems
    [post_mime_type] => 
    [comment_count] => 0
    [filter] => raw
    [meta_data] => stdClass Object
        (
            [wpcf-published-in] => 
            [wpcf-date-published] => 2021
            [wpcf-summary-description] => This poem is commended in the Young Poets Network 10th anniversary challenge in 2021. This challenge offered the opportunity to respond to any previous challenge or feature published in the first ten years of Young Poets Network. Dana Blatte responded to Namedropping: A Challenge with People Need Nature and Jen Hadfield.
            [wpcf-rights-information] => 
            [wpcf-poem-award] => Commended, YPN 10 challenge
            [wpcf_pr_belongs] => 
        )

    [poet_data] => stdClass Object
        (
            [ID] => 21667
            [forename] => 
            [surname] => 
            [title] => Dana Blatte
            [slug] => dana-blatte
            [content] => Dana is commended in Young Poets Network's 10th anniversary challenge.
        )

)
stdClass Object
(
    [ID] => 21667
    [forename] => 
    [surname] => 
    [title] => Dana Blatte
    [slug] => dana-blatte
    [content] => Dana is commended in Young Poets Network's 10th anniversary challenge.
)

Sharon, Massachusetts

Dana Blatte

After Gaia Rajan

The horizon ruptures in the shape of my name.
Dana, Dana, it calls while I sleep on my belly
in the woods. I will dream about the sky,

how it unfolds like a bruised lid, how deer
dung marks constellations in the dirt.
Later, I will drive myself across town.

I will run laps around the track until I have no more breath
to give. Every note of birdsong sounds
like it is mine. I sweat into my palms.

Nearby, there is a statue of a dead woman
and I can’t remember her name. Only that she lived
once and died between my textbook pages.

I call her Dana and wonder if she kept her promises.
Her mouth stays sewn to her cheeks. When I go
home, I shower and still smell like pine needles.

I will never be clean. I believe this so much I let
the water collect anywhere but on my skin.
At sunset, I lock myself indoors. Anyone

that knows me is dead. I am built
of stone. I bury the pretty bird under the trees.
then dutifully slice the tires on my car.

My stomach cramps. I do not sleep. I stare
at the horizon until it melts. When I die,
tell the sky I’ll dream about its name.