"...how the hell am I supposed to power myself out of my ownrepetitive conundrum into some sort of straightforward pathway?
I’d repeatedly crash. My own darkness would be marooned.My own limbs would break through a broken mirror, another extraction of myself from inside my own curvilinear folds. I know I won’t stop folding. I know I won’t sit still insidesomeone else’s vehicle while I am still alive."
the end of my poem, "I Am Not Straightforward Movement", appearing in Rag Queen Periodical, Issue Two
read more here -
https://www.ragqueenperiodical.com/single-post/2018/07/26/1-Poem-by-Juliet-Cook
Published on August 06, 2018 22:29