Poetry By Cathryn Cofell

Anders Pearson CC




A Monster Describes Itself 
 
I see pinpoints of red, a tunnel I can’t crawl, 
a cave no canary could thread. I have forgotten 
the sound of my voice but am drawn to the creek 
of other people’s words. You want to believe 
I am misunderstood, beautiful on the inside, 
but if you believe in heaven, isn’t there also 
a hell? I want to believe I abandoned 
beauty long ago, but is it abandon if it was never 
mine? I long for blood orange, peanut brittle, 
hard boiled eggs, to crack open the shells, 
to excavate the sweet ugly. 

Alone, I am a water ballet, dance of pines, 
steam of moss. With you, I am desire, devastation, 
dread. How can a mouth describe its own tongue? 
How can a body recoil at its own pulse, all boil 
and pump? You may choose to hunt me, corner me, 
fell me like a redwood, but after, there will be 
sadness, guilt, an unimaginable loss.
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Cathryn Cofell is Appleton, Wisconsin's first poet laureate, a platform to help foster a community that is more literate, more compassionate, more connected, and more mentally healthy. She coordinates Poetry Unlocked, a monthly poetry reading series and volunteers her time with several nonprofit organizations, including the Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets and NAMI Fox Valley. Cofell is the author of eight books of poetry, including “Stick Figure With Skirt,” winner of the Main Street Rag Poetry Award.