Shevaun Brannigan

Poetry

Shevaun Brannigan’s work has appeared in such journals as Best New Poets, AGNI, and Slice. She is a recipient of a Barbara J. Deming Fund grant and holds an MFA from Bennington College.

 

Frank Learns to Juggle During Quarantine

I. His hands are pinball flippers. We’re going crazy in here. The juggling balls pop from his palm to the air, to palm, to palm. I assign them their symbols. One ball will be fear. The second will be love. The last, persistence. The persistence of love, the love of fear, the fear of persistence, the unknown, to be caught or to catch, so much up in the air, fear is in the air, Frank holds love, Frank holds persistence. II. I have dropped love, woken up and found it in bed beside me. The beautiful face he wears sleeping. I have gripped fear, I have lost persistence, saw it roll under the couch and let it go. The quarantine continues on despite me. I watch him juggle, I watch him cope. My love, tossing an easy ball caught neat in his palm. I loop the mask around my ears. III. The beautiful face he wears sleeping; outdoors, he winks, mask-mouthed, the fabric sucks in as he holds his breath, juggling for the little boy who stands so far away.

This poem was written over three weeks, with consultation from my (virtual) workshop group, led by Steven Kleinman. I am grateful to them for pushing it to this version.

Listen: