ISSUE TWELVE | SPRING 2019
tanner I
to preserve ligaments I stress
to Him we have x months plus one
usually no acorns tough it gristly
shell borne in a cup-shaped loch
the gender-neutral term of which
is folk (latin for a woman who walks
into a room devoured by wolves
only to return in a red-white dress)
tanner II
fury knew my limbs splintered oak
my ears a widening lisp over my heart
I am eleven and a half a voice
fully-grown whispers around
a kindecorner disgusting
I hate the sound of skin but
who can say what light is bend
ing who can say what is wind
tanner III
instead of a small place consider
the gargantuan or the no space
consider a forest with zero trees
curving the humps of the horizon
or the sun or all stars or etc
a decision with no consideration
nothing breathes more air than
the dark nothing takes up more plot
Joy Belonger is a queer transfeminine writer living in Iowa City, where they are a poetry MFA candidate at the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. Previous work has appeared in Black Warrior Review, Cleaver, Barrelhouse, The Cardiff Review, and elsewhere. Follow them on Twitter @JoebyElonger.
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