Two Poems by Marine Cornuet


I put my finger in the blender
I walk when the light is green
I slide myself onto the rails

and every night

I topple over the balcony railing

to see what the night is made of.



If you have a knife, you have everything
my uncle says.
Him and his brothers, his sons
and his nephews pull out of their pockets
the mark of manhood
at each meal.

An Opinel is a sharp sunflower:
it unfolds when a plate appears,
and is crumpled back into darkness
when the meal is done.

The men in my family cut
and slice in silence, then sweetly
rinse and pat their blades

An Opinel is a durable tool,
that, if cared for properly, brings
you food and safety. I gutted
this boar with mine
my uncle continues.

He offered a knife to his wife
as a wedding gift. She knows
how to prepare excellent
deer, with the soft potatoes they grow,
flat parsley and garlic, also
from their small plot.

The only way to say
I love you with a knife
in your pocket
is to kill game
and carry it home
for dinner.


Marine Cornuet’s poems have appeared in Yellow Chair Review, 8-West Press, Dime Show Review, and Handsy Lit, amongst other places. She has performed at FiveMyles gallery, Station Independent, Ideal Glass, and other venues in New York. She also translates poems from English to French. She currently lives in Brooklyn, NY and is a member of the Sweet Action Poetry Collective.



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