THE WELL

'If I'd Known Young People Could Die I Never Would Have Loved Anyone At All'

Poetry of SAVANNAH LEVIN

---

Buttered Breasts

Grandma taught me a thing or two
about patience
we, us here, in the south
we respect a stew
whether it be for your collards
or for your livers

Grandma advised:
never to deny
the beautiful process of marination
and she blessed our budding chests
with magic butter, or pork fat,
i cant recall

but it was smooth, and it was smeared
on the breasts of all us
growing girls

and with it she sent us into the voodoo dawn
to consult with Old Oak Tree
Old Oak Tree, will our breasts ever grow?
She sighed and sent us to the cypress
Old Cypress Tree, will our breasts ever grow?
She sighed and sent us to the magnolia
Old Magnolia Tree, will our breasts ever grow?
She laughed, languid with the burden of her
happiness, and gave to us a sweet scented
flower, and with it
she sent us back into the dusk

****

Grandma was a big woman
she carried her sweetness in the folds of her flesh
she was rounder than the moon
and much more faithful
she was darker than the night
and just as wise
she took our hands to bless our budding chests
and her own full one
She advised:
everyday you are alive
they will come to eat our breasts
consume
them like food
let us celebrate, she said
that they will fail

Ohio December 24.Later

There may always be that man
druken on the edge
of life's last leg
vicious, for some reason or another,
under a very weak demeanor, you know the type
in the misshapen jacket, angry eyed! easily
passioned by musicians, or writers,
or women eating

Here's another now, hovering across from me
when i stand to speak to Ron, snack conisseur,
the drunken ghost hovers again, and laughs much
too loud, and much too much

the worst thing, is always feeling
his stupid fucking eyes

when i told him to fuck off
he slrurred, balancing on his back heels,
i respect that, i respect you, though most guys wont

and although i didnt quite understand everything
i was angered and threw my tepid tea after him
muttering curses all the while

when i saw him leave the train
next time i stepped off to smoke
i felt relieved
for after all
i am just a tired child

---

Savannah Levin was born in 1993 to a jewish father and a southern mother and developed shortly thereafter into a fine pubescent woman with esoteric issues that led her abroad to europe and africa from which she returned with no shoes to boston, stomped around the us for a while with no money and then met some friends and stomped around south america with no money. She has blue gray eyes with which she likes to read.