Poetry by Tricia Marcella Cimera

​Every Thing Is An Addiction
 
I am addicted to the way Björk sings I thought I could organize freedom in her song, to this thing she wants to do    how she pronounces organize in her Icelandic accent --

I am addicted to the memory of my father telling me It’s like a dream when I asked him if he missed that country he came from    how he seemed untroubled that his past felt unreal to him & by association maybe me --

I am addicted to the color green   how the ferns grow so thick yet orderly in that place --

I am addicted to that blue (sky blue) car ahead of me    how when it turns neatly into the dense forest preserve I decide to follow --

I am addicted to this feeling that the driver is someone I need to meet, who will see & touch me in the deep green leaves    how I could finally be real and so --

organized




The Suburb of My Broken Heart
 
Boxborough was the suburb
where my child heart was broken.
 
The woods were safe; the beasts lived
inside the pretty houses on Guggins Lane.   
 
Your crazy mother they threw at me. 
In Boxborough, everyone knew.
 
I used to go down to Guggins Brook,
collected stones I kept under my bed.
 
I armed myself, thin-boned girl, in
that suburb where I played in the woods
 
where I practiced my aim.

BIO: Tricia Marcella Cimera is a Midwestern poet with a worldview. Her work appears in many diverse places — from the Buddhist Poetry Review to the Origami Poems Project.  Her poem ‘The Stag’ won first place honors in College of DuPage’s 2017 Writers Read: Emerging Voices contest. Tricia lives with her husband and family of animals in Illinois / in a town called St. Charles / by a river named Fox / with a Poetry Box in her front yard.

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