📬 Want some Southern goodness in your inbox every Friday?
Get Scalawag's latest stories and a run down of what's happening across the South with our weekly newsletter.
meekest must the bees be to inherit
sighs of an earth bright streaming. pale milk
color of stream. marble beguilement. summer sight
breaking over squarewise homes like a too long branch. as breathe in
breath out loose
the winter cat things from me.
ambiguity of feeling. wet fluoride. the stars and symbol hearts
swelling in the chaos
carbon medley. the breath
in comes and i am
filled with bees.
heartspin. the heart,
every morning throat filled with
honey and green acid, clover, sticking
with tonsil fire and fresh larvae. the burn of
honey from the heart-sweetening muscles
boiled out to candy.
my fingers engine a hot operation
shirt jacket summer sweep the sweet rose in the park.
i am praying to stretch apart
the jaw and loose the bees
unsuspecting upon the retrospective
bee and the cat things here
unto each their own cannot be countermanded and each
the opposite of the other.
in my love i love to be lovely.
and if you can hear me clank while i eat my mouth is made of
the precious metals i give unto you.