Collective Unrest

 

Let me tell you something, sweetheart, Or, Dear capitalist

November 20, 2019

It’s not a secret
that this doesn’t end well
or doesn’t end at all
until everything does
even the orioles and the salamanders
and the making of rice cakes and cobwebs
and love or that half
of us are being starved
while the other half are fed
for the slaughter, I mean distraction,
I mean—

That work has never
freed anyone, but keeps cranking
out blueprints and laws to fill
prisons with cheap labour,
by which I mean disposable,
Pass the corn chips

That a depressed queer broad falling out of her time
makes hardly any noise, but is heard more than those
outside trying to amplify the gut-clawed whimpers of the
even further down, sign languages in the dark,
Hush the guards are coming

That survival and surviving are two distinct goals
rooted in separate grammars of agency,
Duct tape, sewing thread, razor wire

That the enemy of my enemy
probably doesn’t like uppity bitches either

We could go on and on like this, but let’s leave it here


Anita Dolman is the author of Lost Enough: A collection of short stories, and co-editor of Motherhood in Precarious Times, an international anthology of poetry and non-fiction. Her poetry and fiction have appeared in numerous journals, magazines and anthologies, including Another Dysfunctional Cancer Poem AnthologyCanadian GingerHamilton Arts & Letters, and Triangulation: Lost Voices. She is the author of two poetry chapbooks, and is a contributing editor for Arc Poetry Magazine.

Please follow and like us:
In category:
Newer Post

Stoat

It's not the tongueyou think about at such timesbut the dialect,how “drool” and “savor” soundpushed against the roofof the mouth, the wallof the alley   Robert Beveridge (he/him) makes noise (xterminal.bandcamp.com) and writes poetry in Akron, OH. Recent/upcoming appearances in…
Read
Older Post

18 Secrets Stolen from Lindsey Graham’s Diary for Potential Blackmail

1. Lindsey Graham watches Game of Thrones, but only for the dragons. 2. Lindsey Graham is still mad that his mom made him burn his Iron Butterfly records with the rest of his youth group In 1972. 3. Lindsey Graham…
Read
Random Post

They Ask Us

They ask us to be temples. Bodies gilded, floral, wrapped. Bodies holy and kept. Made for the mouths of praying men. Wholly preyed bodies. They ask us to be temples, not goddesses.   *First Published: Calamus Journal, Issue Five, April…
Read
Random Post

5 Poems by Ben Nardolilli

Yesterday’s Synchronicity Read an article about redlining, then listened to an album with the title “Redline,” after work, I traveled to Metro Center, where I walked over the Red Line trains to get out, and once there, I went to…
Read
Random Post

Rosemary’s Lobotomy

After Rosemary Kennedy “Darling Daddy, I hate to disappoint you in any way. Come to see me very soon. I get very lonesome every day.” Engulfed in tulle, like a sprig of herb in a wedding bouquet, she curtsied. A…
Read
Random Post

Spider Silk

For the victims of the Orlando Pulse Shootings It’s a hundred degrees, but the air feels cold; The devil hoarded all the heat to fuel his fire Spitting out sparks of the spawn of satan, Who masquerade ecclesiastical attire. I…
Read