Animals: “Anxious body is a zoo of similes” by Genevieve Greinetz

Anxious body is a zoo of similes

Anxiety doesn’t know what to do
with my face or where to put
my eyes. We’re all at the table
with its wood & its weight & i’m

in my own private flood. Bladder is an octopus
hiding in black rocks & all the primordial waters

well up under my chair, carry me
to de-creation— i’m out to sea while everyone else
is eating dinner. My hips have turned
to wolves gnawing on their hind legs, & it’s a zoo

in my shoulders. My hovering hands
are ducks in the marshes by the bay. Please pass

the potatoes, throw me
a life raft, the butter. I’m swept out all the way
across from, next to friends— in my own
rip tide. Veins are channels

starved for water at the low tide. Brain is a box
for worms & they’re wriggling & i can’t paddle
in from the seas, my feet –

my feet. The ground. My feet.

About Genevieve Greinetz

Genevieve Greinetz lives by the sea in northern California. In the world, she is a rabbi and in her spare time loves to write poems, play outside, and drink tea.