the domestic | hershel burgh


Nothing more natural than our misery Our rooms impacted: flush with rot Grimy kitchen, abandoned by us both I cooked there once a week; a meal A rare, bright treat. I would lay it out for you to eat. Then, a hundred-some fortnights, clean the dishes with your father’s spit, my grandmother’s tongue to serve as a sponge. I lived in there. I live there now, though you have dragged it far behind you, into a floodplain full of bobbing apples. I never escaped our kitchen. Each knife slice for you, all these white globs of garlic, every grainy splash of salt, dash of broth Poured straight in your screaming mouth.

Hershel Burgh is a queer, Jewish trans man based out of Northwest Arkansas.  He lives with his partner in a one bedroom apartment that has no drawers and one cat.


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