Devin S. Turk
Poetry
Devin S. Turk writes from personal experience about Autism, transness, and madness in the Mid-Atlantic United States, often with a cat in their lap. They have work published in Short Édition’s Short Circuit, Strange Horizons Magazine, and Disability Rights Washington’s blog, Rooted in Rights. Links to their writing and social media can be found on their Twitter, where they are active @DevinSTurk.
Junk Drawer
I keep a collection of keys
that unlock nothing
looped together,
tarnished neighbors on a lanyard
and I imagine
that they floss their metal teeth
with junk drawer gossip.
Sifting my fingers
through the jar of spare buttons,
I wonder if they whisper to each other
in plastic voices
and reminisce about the favorite shirt
at last Thanksgiving’s dinner
before the incident involving
splattered cranberry sauce.
I think the Monopoly piece
holds a grudge against me,
still considers itself a thief’s prize,
but it is the only battleship
I can hold in the palm of my hand,
so it stays.
Once, I inherited a pocket watch
with a broken latch
and I treasured the thing, would hold it
up to my ears as a kid just to listen
though I knew
it wouldn’t tick.
I suspect
that when I turn away,
its timeless arms reach
for one another.
Listen: