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The Wyrd
Gǣð ā Wyrd swā hīo scel! — Beowulf A split pear lies dust as ants spider through. At nape’s breath looms the abuser, heavy breast in rot and flesh — a crack in fabled dawn to Leda and the Swan. Collapsed, a sheared corpse whom fascist pregnant bends cries, coughs, and sputters as the Serpent… Continue reading
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Fentland
Dope is death! — Lorenzo Kom’boa Ervin, Anarchism & the Black Revolution Content note: discussion of drug use and death. Power is a bioregulative force. Capital quantities life by slicing the body into atoms, into sites of manipulation. The body is no longer the enmattered activity of the Unique, but a collection of functional or… Continue reading
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Lamentations
If you had truly loved your neighbor, it would’ve occurred to you long ago to divest yourself of this wealth. But now your possessions are more a part of you than the members of your own body, and separation from them is as painful as the amputation of one of your limbs. – St. Basil,… Continue reading
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Magnolia
Shhhh. – the wind When I die, bury me at Petit Jean. Fill my lungs with fresh-tilled earth and let the Arkansas rush through my ribs. I am a flower, strong and frail, a gardener tending to the soil of my heart. When I return from Hades, my soul will sprout again, blooming among the… Continue reading
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Butchfemme
There is, for me, no difference between writing a good poem and moving into sunlight against the body of a woman I love. – Audre Lorde, Sister Outsider There is no such thing as gender. There are genderings. To gender, as a verb. One genders by echoing a history, intending futures and expressing pasts in… Continue reading
Fish In the Afternoon 