All girls should have a poem
written for them even if
we have to turn this God-damn world
upside down to do it.
--Richard Brautigan
KIM DOWER is the author of six collections of poetry, including "What She Wants: Poems on Obsession, Desire, Despair, Euphoria" published by Red Hen Press in January 2025. Her poems have been featured in many anthologies and journals, including Ploughshares, James Dickey Review, Plume, and Barrow Street. She teaches poetry workshops for Antioch University, UCLA Extension, and the West Hollywood Library. Kim lives with her family in West Hollywood, California, and she joins us today via Zoom.
Welcome to the Poets Weave. I'm Romayne Rubinas Dorsey. Kim, what poems have you brought for us today?
She’ll do anything for food,
the dog walker tells me.
She speaks quietly, not wanting
to insult her heavy-boned, one blue,
one brown-eyed beast tugging
at her leash. We did a doggie
ancestor test, she confides, discovered
she’s part wolf, part miniature poodle.
Must be the poodle part makes her so
ravenous; small creatures are ruthless
feeders. Think of enraptured rats
gnawing their way through orange trees,
babies nursing—sucking so fiercely
they can burst a nipple. Think of your
heart, size of a throbbing fist, the part
of you that will do anything for love.
UNRULY AURA
The cashier at the health food store
tells me I have a beautiful aura.
Wait, I tell her, if you want to see
a really beautiful aura, wait until I’ve taken
my Renew Life, Ultimate Flora, Probiotic.
After that my aura will knock your socks off.
She smiles at me and rings me up. My money
has a beautiful aura, too. My dollar bills
float out of my pink wallet. The man behind me
swells from the heat I generate. Each step I take
brings me closer to God, the final, fabulous aura.
Take my hand, I tell her, squeeze my aura—
it’s hungry, and looking for someone to devour.
WHAT SHE WANTS
She wants to take the rocks
out of his pockets
be the puzzle
he keeps going back to
the clue
that solves it
she wants to be the sweat
on his neck
his holiday dinner
with two kinds of stuffing
the bandage across his chest
that stops the bleeding
the wax he drips
on his other
girlfriend’s belly
the breeze
through his window
the butter he licks
from the corners
of his mouth
the only kiss
lingering on his lips
the milk in his coffee
the recurring dream
he waits for
book he gets lost in
kitten he rescues from the alley
she wants to be his last
meal before they flip
the switch and she wants to be
the one that pulls him
out of the chair
the shoes he wears
to escape
the song he sings
as they’re running
KISSES WITH DREAMS IN THEM
After James M. Cain and Wallace Stevens
She told him she wanted kisses
with dreams in them,
the kind of kiss
you might only have once,
the kind of kiss upon which
your future
world depends
OBSESSION
She reads that a squirrel’s
front teeth
never stop growing.
She will look into this.
She will set the record straight.
You've beem listening to the poems of Kim Dower on the Poets Weave. I'm Romayne Rubinas Dorsey.
