Kalina’s Reviews > Brute: Poems > Status Update
Kalina
is on page 13 of 96
In my history, I was bones eating paper
or I was paper eating bones. Semantics.
I lived in a narrow house;
I lived with a man who said
You fucked up your own life, who said
I could never love someone so heavy.
The place was brick on brick
with iron grates covering the windows—
rowhouse cage, South Philly. I was learning
how some of us are made to be carrion birds
& some of us are made to be circled.
— Mar 29, 2021 11:24PM
or I was paper eating bones. Semantics.
I lived in a narrow house;
I lived with a man who said
You fucked up your own life, who said
I could never love someone so heavy.
The place was brick on brick
with iron grates covering the windows—
rowhouse cage, South Philly. I was learning
how some of us are made to be carrion birds
& some of us are made to be circled.
Like flag
Kalina’s Previous Updates
Kalina
is on page 19 of 96
Alone, I watch the water move now like a clock someone is winding with a knife. I am starved for that easy taxonomy of Things Before. For the
years not likely to be cut open with scissors only to find proof of disease. Black hair spooling from the lungs of each month since. You’re gone & I collect fox fur by myself in every direction. You’re gone & I misname the trees.
— Mar 29, 2021 11:31PM
years not likely to be cut open with scissors only to find proof of disease. Black hair spooling from the lungs of each month since. You’re gone & I collect fox fur by myself in every direction. You’re gone & I misname the trees.
Kalina
is on page 18 of 96
Stone after stone, I’m defacing the river of being in love with you.
True, I don’t care how that sounds. I have a list
of cocoons to transform my body: Uncontrollable
Shaking. Sleep Paralysis. Dread of Eating. I’m guilty
of pretending the roads to your house are no longer roads
but deerpaths angled crooked through the marsh.
— Mar 29, 2021 11:29PM
True, I don’t care how that sounds. I have a list
of cocoons to transform my body: Uncontrollable
Shaking. Sleep Paralysis. Dread of Eating. I’m guilty
of pretending the roads to your house are no longer roads
but deerpaths angled crooked through the marsh.
Kalina
is on page 12 of 96
You remember too much,
my mother said to me recently.
Why hold onto all that? And I said,
Where can I put it down?
-Anne Carson
— Mar 29, 2021 11:22PM
my mother said to me recently.
Why hold onto all that? And I said,
Where can I put it down?
-Anne Carson
