Strange, this urge

to ingest my child,


to gobble those cheeks,

each glitter-smeared


finger, even her hair

which took forever


to sprout, and still is

impossible to brush


or braid. Does it make

any sense, this desire


to devour all I hold dear?

More, she cheers,


then chomps down

on my shoulder, through


sweatshirt and flannel

and still drawing blood. 



Jared Harel was awarded the 2015 ‘Stanley Kunitz Memorial Prize’ from the American Poetry Review. Additionally, his poems have appeared in Tin HouseThe Threepenny ReviewThe Southern ReviewShenandoah and Ecotone. A graduate of Cornell’s MFA program, he lives in Queens, NY and plays drums for the twang-rock band, The Dust Engineers.


Next Poem

Back to Table of Contents