Two Poems by Cara Losier Chanoine

Ergo Sum

My therapist thinks that running
is a metaphorically resonant
part of my life,
as though the physical act
were an analog for avoidance.
I think she had a tired imagination.

I have enough
metaphors.
I have shingled my life in them;
I have to peel them back
just to see the bones.

I am running down a street
that is every street
because I need to remind myself that my brain
is housed in a body,
and my laces are double knotted,
and my limbs move in syncopation
with my threadbare breath,
and I am not running to or from
I am just running
I am just
I am

---

In Lieu of Flowers

Sometimes,
I trawl the obituaries
from my hometown
to see if anyone I know
has died.
Maybe
it’s not accurate
to say that I know them
anymore.
I could not really tell you
who these people are
beyond the basic facts
the newspaper sees fit to print:
son of…
spouse of…
survived by…

The sight of a familiar name
triggers a type of dread I cannot classify.
It brings death closer
than I would like,
with the rot of its breath
on my neck.
It places a claw on my cheek
like a lover.
I cannot break its gaze.

I don’t know why
I keep returning to this well of used up names
that culture bile in my gut.
Sometimes,
I wonder
if I am training
for the gut punch
of a death that matters
to me,
or if such a thing
is even possible.

---

Cara Losier Chanoine is a New England writer and college professor. Her most recent poetry collection, Philosopher Kings, was released by Silver Bow Publishing in January 2023. Her creative work has most recently appeared in Reedy Branch Review, Book of Matches, and The Lake.