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