1. |
untitled (tanka)
00:12
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i don’t know their names
the lilac-color blossoms
but i smell them strong
even through the damp facemask
i breathe into heavily
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2. |
Red Herring
01:18
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i sneak in a smell—
a smell of myself.
do a line off my finger,
a line of skin
twist my neck like a garlic knot
to sop up the sweat of my
shaved pits. who am i kidding?
they are unshaved. unshaved,
and unshowered. i smell
myself to see
if i’m still there.
to sense of self
to self-evidence
my body is my self, in a sense.
the good, the bad, and the fragrant.
the aromatic, autonomic nervous system.
i go with my gut
where my gut wants to go
for i’ve got a pungent hunch
about the great body autonomy caper
so sure, i’ll take a whiff
whether or not it passes the smell test
i’ll waft and wax and wane:
like the moon, i’m made of cheese.
my body throws me off the scent
but it’s the scene of the crime
so reflexively, i return to it
howling at the fucking moon
i go missing once a month.
i’ve stopped looking for my face
but when i find it i go crazy
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3. |
Aid & Abet
00:33
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there is nothing so mutually exclusive
as a relationship
between one person and another
we are a fugitive
you harbor me in your arms
you look so cute on the lam
and i am most wanted
elope from the facility
run away with me
i’ll be your sinner in secret
when the lights go out
if we are guilty (we are)
we are guilty in the second degree
there’s nothing excluding you from me
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4. |
Contract
01:05
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apparently
some people believe
all the promises they are made
have parents
who gave them their word
and made good on it
a christian tried to tell me my god is satan
because i don’t believe anyone’s promises
not even hers
an echo
is the daughter of a voice
a matrilineal descent
but i am my father’s daughter
and diluvian doubts all swirl
down the drain
the arc of the universe is long
but it bends towards total fucking abandonment
everything falling apart
a rainbow
shoots an arrow through my heart
from under a bush, a bowshot away
and any compact we may make
is just shrink
or circumcision
her contractions have started
she is going to deliver
and my father cuts the cord
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5. |
The Heat
00:42
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I hate it here.
The humid doggone
days of summer
as unapologetic as ants.
They call the heat
oppressive
for a reason. It’s times
like these the grass
isn’t even greener,
just dead and preferable
to the flies.
I linger at the freezer,
take a little too long
to fish out
those toaster waffles
from the box.
One time I told my therapist
summer is transphobic,
she did not know what to say
to that. Is it “queer”
to drag the seasons
for making me ugly?
I wipe the sweat
from my neck
and make a problematic
joke.
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6. |
Lifeline [ALT]
01:58
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I hung up on you
in a shower too hot for my own good,
cried into a bar of soap
while you dialed my number
and drilled it thanklessly into the counter.
I did not appreciate
the harsh vibration of your concern.
O ingrate, let the liquids down
the drain there drown—
I ought to have shown some respect to you.
After all, you’re a volunteer!
You told me your name like I needed to know
but I forgot it instead.
You put up with my blubbering,
my incoherent tale
and asked me the questions
they told you to ask—
What’s going on? Where are you?
Are you alone right now? Are you gay?
How old are you?
You patiently kept the ingrate in line
when I interrupted and whined
about getting raped and feeling dirty.
You expertly told me to breathe and unwind,
that you’re an ally
but I hung you up, high and dry,
shouted something about
needing to shower him out of me.
With no other choice, it was no wonder why
you called 911.
The next lady wasn’t nice at all,
she told me to give up my address the easy way
or they’d track and trace the call.
She informed me I was lying when I said I wasn’t armed;
the other lady told her that the ingrate had self-harmed.
The officers stroked their unholstered guns
like great big cocks.
Well, really, what did you expect?
Where do guns go but people’s faces?
The fire trucks, the ambulance, the backup arrived
all because of hanging up on you.
O volunteer, why was I so rude?
O ally, so ungrateful too?
O lady,
I apologize to you.
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7. |
Curfew
00:36
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Good girls, good as gone
too squeamish to hit the sack
they turn themselves inside-out
while outside ears are split
by the women keeping mum
who hold the mic to the speaker
in the name of feedback.
Winded, they’ve been outspoken
or at least spoken for
plucking shallow, respectable breath
from their soft-spoken throats
kneeling meekly for their inheritance.
In honor of their victims,
they let the dead speak
for themselves.
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8. |
Dazzle Camouflage
00:57
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the brilliant filaments of my busy face
push through like play-doh
caving in on itself
the dizzying array
rearranges itself to face me
and i uncover a .jpeg artifact
time-stamped, pixelated
in front-facing flash
a screen capture of eyes bloodshot red
eyes like you’ve never seen before
i watch my movements on the screen
like the slapstick sight gag with the mirror
and the choreographed double
stick out my tongue at “myself”
if that’s your real name
make sudden movements to test the reaction time
of those little phosphorescent lamps
red, blue, and green
which dangle like anglerfish in a kind of precarity
i instinctively understand but fail to condone
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9. |
Bilocation
02:17
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Return to me, return to me, Shulamit,
return to me, return to me, and we will gaze upon you.
And what will we see in you, Shulamit?
A dance between two camps.
— Song of Songs 7:1
my head is split
into two camps
one is a jubilation of death
a triumphal arc
cut from the same cloth
as judith, jael, and joan
where all sins are forgiven
through rivulets of blood
where jack and jill both
are ripped to red ribbons
that flag from harlots’ windows
where every man must stir
at the knowledge of his name
for a jawbone of an ass
can make his liver lie down
my ass says he can go no further
without someone to eat
and like manna from heaven
this camp gives to me
the ecstasy of i told you so
the testament of pleasure
and torture in full bloom
the other camp is not peace
or quiet piety
it is the thundering, undeniable rapture
of a babbling brook
baby animal videos
on my feed
i sleep with one eye open here
out of respect for all the living things
who make room for me
and my violent fantasies
so natural and so new
today i stopped to tell a bee
thank you for your service
and it wasn’t a meme
birdcall wakes me here
where i cry all the time
for every thing that hurts
and every wonder of whispering
that makes this world renew
its borrowing of me
for one more day
a blade in its meadow
a miracle for whom
living does not come naturally
now, with a bit of luck
i’m wide awake and dreaming
fully now and fully then
thirsting and wroth for the skins of men
who took from me my brothers
but also quenched by torrential creeks
made humble, bittersweet
in the miraculous need of all things
for each other
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10. |
Desire Path
00:28
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i take the shortcut
cut through the grass
the unmowed green
straight snaking path
unplanned but real
but not concrete
a bunch of cut corners
and obstinate trampling
this is desire
treading and retreading
against law and design
in hopes of saving
a little time
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