A POEM BY KATHARINE PEDDIE
He says you’re confused I think he means your anger isn’t
ideological in each moment he seems clear he
like our confusion my nostalgia your anger I feel it on the street where you’re flicking your cigarette/handing out high fives.
I remind him of mess. of money
the bills we gotta pay
there’s something about me
come the revolution he wants me
against the wall
I have my reasons for being there
can’t seem to say sex without violence
he wants something
blame the Enlightenment it seems
I wanna make
a strangled sound.
Remember when you were god?
The song is in your pocket a poem a heart but I don’t know
what your hand’s doing now
I call you up I call you
out I stress you out I’m
petrified of silence
what’ll it be now
the 10,000 spoons or the knife?
Artwork © Olga Alexander