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From Joe Jiménez:

September 25, 2018

                                             Caliche. Great bird, woodsmoke, needle. Snake, owl.                                                             Nopal vibration.

Almost every day
of my life
I have wanted

to be filled.

By something:
a great bird, woodsmoke,
wild laughters,

an untethered

tongue.
When I’m on my back,
any yell
can be a needle,

any breath
works as thread.

Broken Retablo for Being on My Back, My Feet Bare & in the Air

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From Analicia Sotelo:

September 23, 2018

Once, I followed married men:
eager for shelter, my fur

curled, my lust
freshly showered.

I called out, Grief.
They heard, Beauty.

I called out, Why?
They said, Because I can and will.

Bitch Instinct

From Valerie Wallace:

September 20, 2018

Know the difference between raven & crow? Histrionics.
My mind jabs, tilts.
I love a clean line.
Look at these bones, foil, bits of fur—
I’ll use my own feathers if I have to,
You hear me? You hear me? You hear me? You hear me?

– Raven, from McQueen Self-Portrait as Bestiary

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From Alex Lemon:

September 17, 2018

I am midnight banging against house-
fire. A naked woman shaking
with the sweat of need.

An ocean of burning diamonds
beneath my roadkill, my hitchhiker
belly fills sweet. I am neon blind & kiss
too black. Dangle stars—

let me sleep hoarse-throated in the desert
under a blanket sewn from spiders.
Let me be delicate & invisible.

Mosquito

From Ada Limón:

September 13, 2018

I like
that they’re ladies. As if this big
dangerous animal is also a part of me,
that somewhere inside the delicate
skin of my body, there pumps
an 8-pound female horse heart,
giant with power, heavy with blood.
Don’t you want to believe it?
Don’t you want to lift my shirt and see

– How to Triumph Like a Girl

From Teddy Macker:

September 11, 2018

It is the summer of the day, the gold-bodied hour, the good bookless eternity. It is the epoch of blaze, labia, white oblivion. No melancholy yet, nor reverie, nor singing, barely any talk—it is the matterful backs of cattle, thigh-quiet of tree trunk, insect wing nickeled with sun.

– Noon

From June Jordan:

September 9, 2018

There oughta be a woman can break
Down, sit down, break down, sit down
Like everybody else call it quits on Mondays
Blues on Tuesdays, sleep until Sunday
Down, sit down, break down, sit down

A way outa no way is flesh outa flesh
Courage that cries out at night
A way outa no way is flesh outa flesh
Bravery kept outa sight
A way outa no way is too much to ask
Too much of a task for any one woman

Oughta be a Woman

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