Emily J. Mundy
A Stash of Days
The nosedive into oblivion
sweeps through me like a white sea carnival
rips through a sleepy town:
abruptly bursting color bombs, noise spilling out
from floral sweats and flint mouth.
sweeps through me like a white sea carnival
rips through a sleepy town:
abruptly bursting color bombs, noise spilling out
from floral sweats and flint mouth.
I lose myself in a stash of days
drug under, into the dark throat
of a hellbent wave; my shape
crumples in on itself, a geode of limbs
skidding into ringlets of obsidian.
drug under, into the dark throat
of a hellbent wave; my shape
crumples in on itself, a geode of limbs
skidding into ringlets of obsidian.
My hands contort in flailing prayer,
a calligraphy of undrowned sins.
a calligraphy of undrowned sins.
Nosediving, again
my organs surge in riptide—swimming,
swimming, baptized. I find my eyes in a mirror:
two fluttering moths
doused in kerosene.
my organs surge in riptide—swimming,
swimming, baptized. I find my eyes in a mirror:
two fluttering moths
doused in kerosene.
The matchbox in my belly blinks, and I sing
hear me, holy mania—braid me
spasm first into my spine so that I may remember
this craze of crawling
through the maze back to my center.
hear me, holy mania—braid me
spasm first into my spine so that I may remember
this craze of crawling
through the maze back to my center.
I was born with one of those: a center,
however serpentine the way back in.
however serpentine the way back in.
Just when the riptide rears its mad sneer
wide enough to tear me limb from limb,
just when the sky is eaten clear of light,
I remember to relax.
In one flexuous flash
wide enough to tear me limb from limb,
just when the sky is eaten clear of light,
I remember to relax.
In one flexuous flash
the swell breaks and I am spit
onto the split grin
of the unsuspecting shore
onto the split grin
of the unsuspecting shore
This Worthy Work
I go where the body pulls me, today.
Today, I listen and follow—
Today, I listen and follow—
the measured hush of my worn boots scuffing
warmed dirt, which little exhales punctuate
warmed dirt, which little exhales punctuate
obsidian eye of a garter snake
penetrating the stark pause between our frozen frames
penetrating the stark pause between our frozen frames
its river-like swivel into the effortless wisp
of the tall grass shimmying, shimmying
of the tall grass shimmying, shimmying
white berries conjuring my curious thumb,
taut flesh exposing itself between my fingers’ squeeze
taut flesh exposing itself between my fingers’ squeeze
my molasses shuffle toward the memory of leaves
a once-canopy transformed to a skeletal gateway.
a once-canopy transformed to a skeletal gateway.
The lone bluff calls my hidden name:
Palms press hard into the chilled soil,
ankles crossed and dangling over its edge.
ankles crossed and dangling over its edge.
I imagine my body sinking downward, the cliff and me
collapsing into the twisting swarm of branches below.
collapsing into the twisting swarm of branches below.
It is here when I realize that loneliness
is no longer haunting my heart.
is no longer haunting my heart.
To thank the parallel spirit,
I write their name into the sand.
I write their name into the sand.
This worthy work is worth
the restlessness and wounds
the restlessness and wounds
worth letting the words of the body
wash into merely—solitude.
wash into merely—solitude.
The Blooming (CW: domestic violence)
To the rusted blade
lobbed into the grey ache
of the sound—forgiveness
lobbed into the grey ache
of the sound—forgiveness
To the splay of former selves
spattered across the bone-walls
of inner ribs
spattered across the bone-walls
of inner ribs
For not having found the prayer
to free the imprint of ghosts
from the purgatory of forearm skin
to free the imprint of ghosts
from the purgatory of forearm skin
For the folded pile of fraught spells
meant to manifest a brighter being
inside this flesh case of rough seams
meant to manifest a brighter being
inside this flesh case of rough seams
For failing, but
trying, again and again—
forgiveness
trying, again and again—
forgiveness
To all the tail ends of evenings
lost in a half-empty bottle drifting
into the abyss of memory
lost in a half-empty bottle drifting
into the abyss of memory
To the flash of ashtrays accidentally overflowing
To the grit and spit and sweat slipping
between two bodies that chose each other to forget—
To the grit and spit and sweat slipping
between two bodies that chose each other to forget—
a pardon, compassion, respite
For every plight of gouging out
my father’s fists from the soft depths
in the grudge of my sternum
my father’s fists from the soft depths
in the grudge of my sternum
For not having learned
to stop trying to beat
the beatings out
to stop trying to beat
the beatings out
To unravel from the surging fury
Because abandonment kept leaving
Because just believing in the light
Because abandonment kept leaving
Because just believing in the light
would not beckon it over the lip
of the horizon—all that is left, now
is the night’s thin throat, waiting
of the horizon—all that is left, now
is the night’s thin throat, waiting
to be wide-eyed waded into
is a punch bowl of ice water
that longs to hold your face
is a punch bowl of ice water
that longs to hold your face
is a pair of soot-strewn lungs
designed to remind you
that sometimes it is enough
designed to remind you
that sometimes it is enough
just to release
the perpetuated shape
of self-destruction—so get to it
the perpetuated shape
of self-destruction—so get to it
Cast that damp shadow off like a wet shawl
and launch your movement, light,
across the warmly worn meadow
and launch your movement, light,
across the warmly worn meadow
You didn’t spill all that salt for nothing
but swear—right here—you’ll let
your blood stay blue
but swear—right here—you’ll let
your blood stay blue
Swear you’ll cup the cheek of your loneliest hue
that you’ll eat all your fallen petals
nascent bulbs bursting from a mouthful of soil
that you’ll eat all your fallen petals
nascent bulbs bursting from a mouthful of soil
Bloom the boomerang of kindness
Bloom the furious aliveness
Bloom mercy
Bloom the furious aliveness
Bloom mercy
and bloom soft
Oblivion’s wilt is forgiven—
the blade rests in the belly of the sound
the blade rests in the belly of the sound
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