IN THAT OLD EXPERIMENT

​The time I just lay back and did not 
    struggle was the last.  What he wanted was 
my pushing away or my pulling towards. 
    By then I felt no more resistance, had 
spent myself trying to preserve, become 
    a dog no longer fighting to escape 
the electrified flooring in that old
    experiment by throwing herself at 
the walls of her cage, instead loosening
    her mind, letting shock take over, current 
run through and out till the long moment was 
    done, time compressed, the minutes finished. I 
turned my head to watch birds hopping among 
    the bare branches outside the window, each 
waiting for time at the feeder below.​
​

WE GAVE OURSELVES NAMES

We gave ourselves names, for that’s what you do 
when you want to recreate yourself, make 
your own moniker like a riddle to 
the meaning of what flows through you at a 
speed so fast the particles cannot be 
distinguished from the waves, indifferent 
to walls and skin, detected only from 
the corner of the eye when thinking of 
something else. She was the Forest, and we 
all agreed. Another claimed Ultimate 
Power, the five syllables slowing us 
down when we said them, curbing our response. 
The Sunflower wore a bilateral 
cross bite and lovely teeth, whitest in the 
collective smile. I was the Weed, no clear 
botanical definition, claimed just 
because I was growing in a place no 
one wanted me, imposing myself in 
a plan, striving where few others would live.

---

ABOUT  SANDRA KOLANKIEWICZ

Sandra Kolankiewics’s poems have appeared widely, most recently in One, Otis Nebulae, Trampset, Concho River Review, London Magazine, New World Writing and Appalachian Heritage. Turning Inside Out was published by Black Lawrence.  Finishing Line has released The Way You Will Go and Lost in Transition.