Antigone Buries the Body
by Jennifer Franklin
I wasn’t trying to get caught
but I knew I would be.
The sky watched, a harder
shade of blue, as I knelt
above your lifeless body.
When I held the dirt
in my curved palms,
I knew I could not return
home to the yellow sheets,
the eyelet canopy. It didn’t
happen how they described it—
doing the deed that doomed
me to death. It wasn’t fast—
over before I could stop
myself. It was deliberate.
I heard music—a deep
lament leading me. I felt
water but my mouth remained
dry. It held the words anger
and apple. Maybe you thought I
was going to say soil and love.
The wall of the city is tall. I skin
my shins. When I see blood, I believe
I am still alive. I know I will die.
Published December 1, 2019
Jennifer Franklin (AB Brown University, MFA Columbia University School of the Arts) is the author of two full collections, most recently *No Small Gift *(Four Way Books, 2018). Her poetry has been published widely in print and online including Blackbird, Boston Review, New England Review, Gettysburg Review, Guernica, JAMA, Love's Executive Order, The Nation, Paris Review, Plume, “poem-a-day” on poets.org, Prairie Schooner, and Sixth Finch. She teaches poetry manuscript revision and compilation at the Hudson Valley Writers Center, where she runs the reading series and serves as Program Director. She lives in New York City. Find her @JFranklinPoetry and www.jenniferfranklinpoet.com.
Nick Berger is an artist and musician based in Philadelphia. Their tattoo work can be found on Instagram under @nicholas.jean.berger and their music can be found at paper-bee.bandcamp.com.