OCD SONNET #3 by Zachariah Claypole WhiteZachariah Claypole White
OCD SONNET #3

Sonnet 

enough of poetry—i want only honesty
between us how once for cbt i had to call my mother
a bitch it’s almost funny now—her delight i mean
when finally i did—or the video from undergrad psych-
ology: the man kissing a gas pump handle and please
believe me it was the most beautiful kiss anxiety
is not a poetic word the “i” too self-assured
the “t” all steeple and bell but how tender a field
it makes of our lips that last year my grandmother
mistook every perennial for an epitaph and no priest
or ornithologist could prove her wrong did you know
every flower is its own tragedy that coleus has leaves
like hurricane clouds demands water three times a week
what is a garden if not obsession and kindness.


Zachariah Claypole WhiteZachariah Claypole White was born and raised in North Carolina and lives in Philadelphia. He holds a BA from Oberlin College and an MFA from Sarah Lawrence College. His poetry and prose have appeared in numerous publications, including Pedestal MagazineWeird Horror, and The Hong Kong Review. His awards include Flying South’s 2021 Best in Category for poetry and a nomination for a Pushcart Prize.

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