CLAIRE DOCKERY
In which Abigail snacks on rocks
after Stardew Valley’s purple-haired, mineral-munching NPC
It’s New Age to say quartz and amethyst
imbue you with energy. It’s enlightened
to actually mean it. It’s New Age to suggest
manifesting your limitations away. It’s enlightened
to actually do it. If you’re like me, you’ll take
that step. You’ll see this pretty bounty of
the earth, how it glistens even brighter than
the finest fruit, how it hoards hidden nutrients.
In short, it looks delicious.
Nothing is forbidden. “Forbidden” is a construct
anyway. So brace your teeth. Take that step.
Put that quartz in your mouth.
after Stardew Valley’s purple-haired, mineral-munching NPC
It’s New Age to say quartz and amethyst
imbue you with energy. It’s enlightened
to actually mean it. It’s New Age to suggest
manifesting your limitations away. It’s enlightened
to actually do it. If you’re like me, you’ll take
that step. You’ll see this pretty bounty of
the earth, how it glistens even brighter than
the finest fruit, how it hoards hidden nutrients.
In short, it looks delicious.
Nothing is forbidden. “Forbidden” is a construct
anyway. So brace your teeth. Take that step.
Put that quartz in your mouth.
Penny tries to hate her mother
after Stardew Valley’s lonely tutor NPC
and fails again in dimensions outgrowing
those of the can they live in. And so she turns
to the children she teaches, answers
her harvest of nightmares by fulfilling,
for them, all her prerequisites of self-love:
books as stand-ins for beer cans, words
as steadfast companions. A legible cursive
carefully wound as the plotlines she wishes
her life would adhere to, with cleanliness
of expression and intention. A reliable
narrator: unwavering voice of
moral authority, willing to scold but
always present to hold their hands
on the long, dark way home.
after Stardew Valley’s lonely tutor NPC
and fails again in dimensions outgrowing
those of the can they live in. And so she turns
to the children she teaches, answers
her harvest of nightmares by fulfilling,
for them, all her prerequisites of self-love:
books as stand-ins for beer cans, words
as steadfast companions. A legible cursive
carefully wound as the plotlines she wishes
her life would adhere to, with cleanliness
of expression and intention. A reliable
narrator: unwavering voice of
moral authority, willing to scold but
always present to hold their hands
on the long, dark way home.
Claire Dockery is the recipient of a Fulbright Grant and Tulane University's 2017 Academy of American Poets Prize. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Madcap Review, Cold Creek Review, Tulane Review, Helen Lit Mag, and others. She is a poetry reader for The Cerurove and can be found on Twitter at @ClaireDockery.