Solid Quarter

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

Visit New Orleans Poetry Fest for the annual 4 day poetry festival directed by Bill Lavender and Megan Burns.

Megan Burns' Poeticsofbone&city project on Tumblr



Showing posts with label containment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label containment. Show all posts

Saturday, January 11, 2020

P O R T A L : A Spell for Exits



Portal


took me decades to arrange sounds

turn my self inside out cut cloth, a scissoring

of time wound down or wooed, to my heart

the grip of it, i swept rational under covers

let me squeeze through window, a gap

wide enough to skin shredding, who could desire

a hungry ghost line:: she shapes a coming, spells

lined the flames i put my finger to the burnt edge

of night & was never afraid of leaving this screen

tell me you feel nothing; you have no concept

i’ve rearranged translations of touch & barter

do you know for sure the dead aren’t living in us

i’m aiming low to hit a broad target, it looks like madness

i’ve unhitched the spiral inside me that codes, i’ve listened too

long to the echo of breaking, none of this matters

as if multiverses bubbled, we replicate infinity

slept inside one another, i was trying to wake, but you

you insisted we stay under suffering, sister, he said join me

& i was ready, i was ready, i was ready & then she said in the dark

unspooling: you can’t sing without a body

i crashed into the mazing constructed to border

monstrosity, my desire to cut to pieces, i can’t control

the rage of centuries marking my sense of time

what does your attachment feel like to another

you will never know who hides where they see

invincible and unbroken, the code of me was jump

through this door i built brick by brick:  when i am gone

repeat after me: love is the word we use here

it means: we remember how we are locked into all

i came to sing our design further into the labyrinth

& if you have walked with me, we are already traveling




Thursday, May 10, 2018

ADDICT

"maybe the people who come to you can handle your darkness"

said someone to me this week. a friend. i say to myself things like

"only broken people come to you, you attract damage"  forget perception

forget we paint the moment we are in with the brush of the past

and it colors everything with what was, not what is

i went to a presentation on healing from sexual trauma

and listened to a room full of women, are you surprised it was

a room full of women but of course we are

my brother was sexually abused and now he is dead

i cry in the bathtub because last week i was having sex

with someone who loves me and who i love but

we can't be together so now i am alone again

it hurts: i go online and in ten minutes find a stranger

to fill that emptiness, fix it: My deepest wound is invisibility

no one can see me and that is how abuse gets in

no one can see me and so too i think of ways to be seen

no matter the cost: i listen to a radio interview with a therapist

on sex addiction and she talks about volition, about whether one

in the moment dissociates and can even make a conscious choice

so tell me how consent works when all i know is other people's bodies

are a way to danger, cloaking what i am worth i seduce abuse b/c i

am in love with the way it consistently wants me back

i don't have to wonder: you love me like you want me dead, you love

me like i'm not real, you love me like i don't exist at all

and yes, i say yes and yes and yes: it's all bloomed inside me

first kiss to fist