Susan Zenker

Trucker’s Wife

Do not waste time undressing me,
I have been making capirotada,
Is this not what we so wanted?
We must eat to live.
This house I listen to
is breathing, perhaps weeping,
this life I taste in moonlight
slipping away, away,
you are forever fading
or leaving to Yuma

Topeka, Tucumcari —
I even help chart your way.
You have not slept, I see it
in the lips, your bones.
I am but a traveler,
we have all afternoon, you say.
I say, do not waste time
undressing, there are so many roads
longing limbs must covet, so much
skin remembers not to say.

Susan Zenker is a writer who works in El Paso, Texas, for the Socorro Independent School District’s family literacy program after having lived in Connecticut, Boston, Mexico City, and Miami. Some of her poems are in The Newspaper Tree, The South Boston Literary Gazette, Latino Stuff Review, and The South Carolina Review. Two of her plays were presented in public readings in El Paso at the Fox Fine Arts Theater and at the Chamizal Theater during UTEP’s PlayWorks program. She supports the Tumblewords Project’s workshops.