Bodega | In the Midrash, Lot’s wife is called Edith

In the Midrash, Lot’s wife is called Edith

Any mammographer worth her salt

Knows down to the nanosecond

When you’ll say If men had to do this…

They must learn a narrow spectrum

Of inflections, measured in the same

Millimeters they use to fit your breast

Between two panes of glass they tell

You to embrace and then hold your breath,

Hon. It’s the furthest thing from a love affair,

Even though your gown is clove-pink,

And nothing must come between you

And the beloved, not even a trace of scent

Dabbed at your throat. You never remember

Her name if you get lucky.

Daisy Bassen is a poet and practicing physician who graduated from Princeton University’s Creative Writing Program and completed her medical training at The University of Rochester and Brown. Her work has been published in Oberon, McSweeney’s, and [PANK] among other journals. She was the winner of the So to Speak 2019 Poetry Contest, the 2019 ILDS White Mice Contest and the 2020 Beullah Rose Poetry Prize. She was doubly nominated for the 2019 Best of the Net Anthology and for a 2019 and 2020 Pushcart Prize. She lives in Rhode Island with her family.

107 – August 2021

By Daisy Bassen

In the Midrash, Lot’s wife is called Edith