issue 6
// poetry
emo-punk spell for keeping ICE away
by c. rivera
give me the gift of your guts on the floor – Lucas Regazzi
at first, we must
talk the talk
rooted in
cemetery
language
& we must speak into
this fire-cleansed jar
its contents bloom-freckled
& waiting
sad boi says, the new moon
in leo is more like sestina
than sonnet, boi I am trippin’ over
your sputter–not blood, but resin–
a mutter of nerves bundled up tight
for the ceremonial
flame
not knife, this time
but sage-against-throat
like an oath, lit–
give me the gift
of yours, only–
& with these hands with these
hands with these small, small
hands, I will keep you safe
from ICE, my copal
smoke
will make 'em choke / on sacred
you best remember that no one
protects better with hatred
than a witch with a Leo moon
& a Taurus sun, whose devotion
feasts on
bones & flowers
& your guts
& your guts
& your guts.
about the author // c. rivera
| c. rivera (they/she) is a queer disabled poet from NYC. They were named a Brooklyn Poets Fellow, a prize winner for Eavesdrop Magazine’s Queer Joy issue, & a contributor in Querencia Press’s We Were Seeds anthology benefitting Palestine. Their work has appeared in Fruitslice, The Plentitudes, & elsewhere, with forthcoming appearances in Oroboro & M E N A C E. |
Instagram: @crystal_e_rivera
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