1 poem | Ian Abernathy

After Birth

2015 Crab Fat Writing Contest Runner-Up

 

 

SPIED THROUGH BIRD’S EYE CRYSTAL:

 

-x-

Two inches below my navy:                             I beget the jut

 

Vomiting expanse:                                                       I leak the Insecure Island

 

Dry heaving the new dozen of dissatisfied animal:

 

(I     BEG     THEM     TO     SEEK     NOURISHMENT)

 

Only after spun in volatile substances of moth ball and sertraline

 

will anchor their wrists into hollows

 

in hopes a mite of blood lust appears itself edible

 

-x x-

Once the witch of obligatory masculinity:

 

(Quivering mid incantation of incense and belabor)

 

Portly Sailors suck oysters from the tailgate

 

pad wax in their underarm

 

Impress fishwives with lemon breath

 

Shackle me to prow

 

of S.S. Pine or Sweet Lacquered Cherry

 

THE NEW FIGUREHEAD:

 

I’m slick I switch sex too quick

 

They can hold my hips

 

They can’t handle my hips

 

I rip and rage a whirlpool of sticks

 

Roughwater braids mates

 

tied and tears tearing torn

 

(And shouldn’t they

 

know how to swim?)

 

Fur and fin drift before afterbirth

 

Cling and hate each other approaching threadbare marsh

 

Paddling a dodecahedron of self-deprecation

 

Teeming open like grape leaves

 

Turns out we’re parts mostly horse hair and yank

 

-x x x-

Happening Liners consider My animal:

 

pets distressed

 

Mystified by our allergy to night vision

 

Our rejection to their mainland drown

 

(to be outfitted with the newest invitation in distraction)

 

Only once a year when puzzled in fog

 

My island vibrates Nerve

 

Choreography we’ve practiced in

 

Sleep through our lives

 

-x x x x-

Fade encircling the bog:

 

test the bath

 

(perfumed or else

 

spiked with grease water)

 

Cast in

 

I pull out

 

a reflex

 

Let it stink a ring around my fingers

 

It drains me from the shelter of analysis

 

(I’m sparse the further you follow

 

through me)

 

Allow my body to take a rest from breath

 

Drop from gas

 

Liquify

 

Deepen my arches into the milked March

 

-x x x x x-

Ceaseless Mutiny:

 

My animal pillage with the sweating venus

 

reined to their antler and strung antennae

 

Rippling out from the gut of the cay

 

dive and melt their pelts under

 

Drag my limb

 

Brand me further from the swear jar of my body

 

Pulsating

 

My animal unstring the echo from my bellow

 

-x x x x x x-

I come to:

 

Salt tucked under my eyelids

 

hot rag mulled in rank ciders

 

(stamped beneath our hooves last Blood

 

Moon)

 

suckled by my pigging gums

 

My animal prepare me to be cured

 

but feed me still to regain some tenderness

 

We didn’t ask to be brought here You said there was no way to swell the hate inside us

 

-x x x x x x x-

Time escapes me:

 

anthills ticking out                 The words heard                      blurs a vortex in my mouth

spits out                                   Sagacity                                     My animal stitched there

re-stringing                             the                                             Nerve

They                                          harmonize                                death tones

Perpetual chirp                       Flocking of the                         tide

rock me off                               the binary of                            this Star

 

Hoot:

 

A blackout

 

And a single pellet lifts from some northwesterly cannon

 

Smacks me moon lipstick

 

Heats a memory of future failure on the roof of my mouth

 

-x x x x x x x x-

Asleep

 

re-stitched and

 

ousted:

 

Tower I cannot control

 

BUT VIEW THAT ISLAND:

 


Ian Abernathy is a poet, playwright, performance artist and art school dropout. Most recently, Abernathy’s poetry play American Strongman was selected and read as part of the Writer’s Block festival at Howl Arts in NYC starring poet Corrina Bain and actress Judith Roberts. Abernathy’s work fixates on queerness, mental illness, and whatever else prevents a good night’s sleep.

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