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A Poem In Which I Am A Gun, Evelyn Bauer


& I do not know whether it is better to be used or to be unused

I am frightened and alone and I am a gun hoping no one

puts a hand on my sleek frame

watch: tense steel snapping and cracking

I am frightened and alone and I am a gun hoping no one

& I am not yet sure what it means to be a gun

watch: tense steel snapping and cracking

tell my mother that I’m sorry

& I am not yet sure what it means to be a gun

But I know what I fear, G-d as ambrosia; as nectar

tell my mother that I’m sorry

spilled gin and cemetery bones, the crooked finger of a stone angel

But I know what I fear, G-d as ambrosia; as nectar

I am made from dust and clay just another golem

spilled gin and cemetery bones, the crooked finger of a stone angel

remove my shem and let me rest

I am made from dust and clay just another golem

& maybe I will feel the rain on my skin

remove my shem and let me rest

hands feeding flowers, I plant clover in my back yard

& maybe I will feel the rain on my skin

I will inscribe the feeling on my skin in ink

hands feeding flowers, I plant clover in my back yard

& I do not know whether it is better to be used or to be unused


 

Evelyn Bauer is a writer, bookseller, and wine punk living on stolen land in so called 'New England.' She is often found reviewing books, petting cats, and listening to experimental music. She would love to give you a natural wine recommendation and discuss queer liberatory literature with you! You can find some of her tabletop roleplaying games at https://eeveeholdsredbull.itch.io/ and find her on twitter at @neo_cubist

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