Hodag
when I was yet his
work horse ox woman
he ran me ragged-raw
filled me up with curses
(what a dumb beast bitch nag
I could be, such)
if I stopped (soup-stir) (sock-sew) (baby-make) (load-haul)
for a split
second’s day (dream) there came
the (prod) (fist) (belt) (whip)
my once-supple skin laced
with welts and scars
when I couldn’t tmake no more
done with me, he was
to set me ablaze
and let the corpse body evidence burn
for seven days
I, from the ashes rise
no beautiful bird clad in crimson feathers
no pale, lovely shade
I, monster screeching terror
I buzzard-meat and skunk-reek
I, horns sharp as his once-words
and spikes span the seven feet
from neck to tail
run run little man
he thinks his weapons
will save him
shoots me but
bullets just bounce off my
(skin he thickened with)
scar tissue
sets upon me with dynamite
but you
(can’t kill a second time what’s already)
died once
I catch fire this time
I (tear) (grab) (scream) (fight)
I drag him with me
toward the tree line
I run hollerin into the woods
and with him in it I burn
his forest to the ground
Jessie Lynn McMains was the winner of the 2019 Hal Prize for poetry, and was the 2015-2017 Poet Laureate of Racine, WI. They are the author of multiple chapbooks, most recently The Girl With The Most Cake, and forget the fuck away from me (both Bone & Ink Press, 2019). WEB TWITTER
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