There was a hypothetical pregnancy.
The woman in question accumulated a box-full
of video cassettes featuring pregnant
characters. She wore beads around her waist
and sat up late in bed with a shawl
of her own hair. Roommates circled
her like roosters, offering her most tender
bites of meat, and the apartment
reeked of sweat and powder. And because
in the end there was no fetus
she got to live for several years like this,
long-awaiting. And because I was only
a visitor, I envied the attention paid to her
by God, how He doted on her body.
Sarah Rose Nordgren’s poems have recently appeared or are forthcoming in The Iowa Review, Pleiades, The Harvard Review, Poetry Northwest, the Best New Poets 2011 anthology, and elsewhere. Winner of the 2012 James Wright Poetry Award from Mid-American Review and two-time fellowship recipient from the Fine Arts Work Center in Provincetown, Sarah Rose grew up in Durham, NC and teaches at Miami University of Ohio in Middletown.
“Mary” was originally published in Invisible Cities (TLR, Winter 2013)