it was morosity
that ran in the family.
I sat down to the orange tablecloth,
my spanish deck set
    laberinto
every light out,
about sevcn candles it
and a roller coaster kind of
high, grief taking years to
fully form outside of me,
a birthday present for us,
Matt
and pulled the first card,
    the sun reversed

i’ll always remember that.
october 19th, 2016 and my
brother is dead.
I swallow a finger full of his
ashes from the black and
white genie bottle I
keep him in and

let the ritual begin.

“the rituals’

we are sharing visions.

during our forced intermission,
I became a lantern and
my own crucifixion was
paused to grow my
sparkling spine sharp like
sudden beams of light
shining
on your morning sex and
I walked forward slaughtering
everything hidden with a
wave of my hand, focused
eyes    incantation, scribe
and text      I having been reborn with bone
like wand, am luring rooks
for guns and ;
turning mice to men
with a flash of tongue
and then turning men to wolves
to find him.

the queen is fat now
gorging herself with army;
the war you begged for
and are bound to get
is here on time.
I gather every friend I know
and share my plans
for combat
enticing each one
with a different reward.
this is the queen you
|asked for:
acerbic communist,
generous with her
violence, but you?
you will know me
by my sharp interjection,
sport–you?

you are
Persephone’s
final futile hours
picking berries in the
garden,
sniffing tulips absentmindedly,
        nevermind the bees or sunset
plucking lilies from the water,
watching the ripples form circles
around your fingertips
and then you’re
screaming at your flowers
being swallowed by the ground
  switch places
an earthworm bit her and said
as Pallas emerged with reminders,
a sello from the water,

floral crown and
speaking in her native tongue:
ways to blow direction,
ways to conjure storms.
oh, here it is again,
that little lie about choice
she goes with her knees
falling through the earth,

but she goes and keeps
her head above that dirt,
what’s a curse to those who
know the power
of reverse?
you.

 

“the magician (reversed)”

They stuffed myself and three black women around a metal toilet in a cage designed to hold only stray cat. One was pregnant and kept asking the time and the guard always replied “Why does it matter to you? You ain’t going nowhere.”

Grace is being able to count the beats of seconds by secretly tapping your finger on your inner thigh while the pregnant woman pees right in front of you; spreads her legs and you don’t look but it’s hard not to. In here, they just let you bleed all over your panties. Women’s cells always smell like blood. I can’t make this up. (Call your wolves). I had an idea that it was close to 1 pm but I didnt dare say anything in case I was wrong about everything. I kept looking at my shoes and hoped no one here was going to shit in this toilet but I already knew that one of us was trying to forget her cramps and I was forgetting my broken body and the pregnant woman had a man to forget and two others had to figure out a way out and the pregnant woman slid off the toilet back onto the floor.

“I’m sorry guys. I’m pregnant. I gotta go a lot.”

We nodded.

“The women who robbed the men”

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