Solid Quarter

Blood Jet Poetry Series in New Orleans, weekly poetry and music as well as open mic performances

Visit Trembling Pillow Press for poetry books, broadsides, chapbooks, and Solid Quarter Magazine.

Megan Burns' Poeticsofbone&city project on Tumblr

Thursday, May 16, 2013

Mother's Day

when things are good is the last moment
before they are not
a city is a place of falling bullets
Mother's Day: 19 down
do you believe you come from here
rooted to violence
does it grow inside of you like desperation
a hole never full
love is a poor way for patching
it never solids, it weighs heavy, breaks brittle
it's no way to skate surface
rough over
my heart rode down, rides blocks and blocks
how many times I've swallowed another
saying, I came here & fell in love
my city/ where I wondered
what do you see
I choked down knowing I would never leave
wedded to a broken
I never loved more, any morning is a wailing
what I know of loss/ how cement holds bodies
how fear is a way of navigating
a never never land we never grew
-- swerved round where the river turns, but never turns against you
mimic what it means to be a city
when we buried you alive, it was delicate
it was slipcover: we dirted over you
to keep you safe
tell me how a mother dangles
tell me of that dripping, here in New Orleans
we know danger, hardly know anything
is anymore/ we live deep under the nation
we live in this holy, holy lights turned out
eating darkness like a fruiting
how you lean into a city for a lifetime
love like an eruption, love like a scouring
guess who knows how to operate the city
guess what kind of naming I like best
we learn about love from losing
don't you ever forget that
don't you ever try to be more than you are
if you think mother is a type of anchor
watch how we come up against the rocks

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