ImmuneI do not pretendImmune by Meggie272
the earth loves me.
Darwin breathes down my neck.
The ocean breathes down my bones.
I am a flute hollowed
by spittle and rain. And I am not
special, nor alone.
I had an ear infection when I was newborn. Two
hundred years ago I would have died from it. I
would have been cut short -
small and screaming.
Every time I step outside at night, the trees tell me:
you’re not safe. A thousand antibiotics
can’t make you safe.
I’m not frightened.
I would lie myself down and wait for the tide.
I would do it any day.
to everything there is a seasonI.to everything there is a season by Meggie272
as a flower or a man,
i shall burst,
as a corpse, i shall
peel away, and
return to the earth,
the air. i'll be in
your lungs yet.
look, it’s not that i’m not
a little bit charmed
by the concentric circles
of existence, and the love,
the bitter, bright and
it’s not that i don’t like
carrying this body that is a miracle,
a miracle in the sum of its parts.
kahlo got it, she knew what
she was talking about –
but i won’t put words
in a dead woman’s mouth.
and the hot sweat of it here,
the pain, the fuck and the sour wine
of it here,
it isn’t really chaining me
down. i’m thinking of
did i ever tell you
i’d like to die on my back,
looking at the sky?
in one of those faraway places
i saw from the car as a child, the top of a hill
seen from a distance; someone else’s farm,
someone else’s land. someone else’s emptiness,
a thin line of grass between
dirt and the inf
Keep your powder dryi.Keep your powder dry by Meggie272
he looks away, the lines under
and around his mudded eyes as
known to me as my own,
as known to me as the hot air
of the death months, the death December,
the blowfly fester, the light stretched
and bright to breaking;
as known to me
as the eucalyptus leaves
that are slicks of fragrant summer
in every January of every year I have
ever lived –
as known to me as the smell of my
floating ’cross the ruined cities
of Christmas lunch –
i am six. he puts the air rifle
against my shoulder, and tells me to
pull the trigger tight.
i’ll try, dad,