What if every desire in your life had a checkpoint
manned by tiny green soldiers

poured on a factory line that began with a giant bath of toxic
swirls cooled in batches into predetermined

postures, some leaning forward into an enemy
that is open-ended, for you to provide

some standing perfectly erect fused to a gun
that will elongate, not snap, if chewed?

For simple agendas, Jaffa oranges, a trip to the sea,
a single figure will do,

for more serious pursuits, a selfie on le Salève, lunch
with your cousin, allow yourself some decades

or, begin training a seabird who may yet pass
the plastic in its belly.

***

Priscilla Wathington is a consulting editor to the children’s rights group, Defense for Children International – Palestine. Her poems have previously appeared in Rosebud Magazine, The Baltimore Review, Spark and Echo Arts, Sukoon, Mizna and The Normal School.