Turning Succulent – a poem by Candice Kelsey

Turning Succulent


I share with friends my self-improvement fantasy of morphing 
Into a rather pithy succulent this summer. I tell them I want to 
Exchange my fleshy, thickened limbs for leaves & stems.

They laugh, of course, & order the appetizer without giving it
Another thought. I pull them back with my lasso of ingenuity until
Yes they finally see that I am serious & looking into it somehow.

You are wonderful in your human form, they abjure. It’s never been 
Done, the hummus-laden server catches on pretty quickly 
& concurs. But this is insane, they say, to which I agree:

Come June 21st, I sit on my back step hydrated, naked, face
To the sun, feeling rather ornamental. I have silently said good-bye
To my family & hello to my genera where now I am true.

Candice Kelsey [she/her] is a poet, educator, and activist currently living in Augusta, Georgia. She serves as a creative writing mentor with PEN America’s Prison & Justice Writing Program; her work appears in Grub Street, Poet Lore, Lumiere Review, Hawai’i Pacific Review, and Slant among other journals. Recently, Candice was chosen as a finalist in Iowa Review’s Poetry Contest and Cutthroat’s Joy Harjo Poetry Prize. Her third book titled A Poet just released with Alien Buddha Press. Find her @candicekelsey1 and www.candicemkelseypoet.com.

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