Your Cart

  • Title
  • Copies
  • Price

The Elephants

Brief History of My Body, OR My Body as Fragments

Sarah Escue


after thawafter aspen:
fog erases syntax

i speak a language of carbon
nitrogenphosphoruswater

mushrooms root
the forest floor
through red mineral horizon
‘round my rugged stem

each whispered web stretches
from ringed legacy
to ringed legacy


]
] i was animal
]
] devoured
]
]


] horse loggers
]
]
] bark beetles
]
] i evacuate my bones


let my flesh turn to tomb
an archive of misremembered
memorieslodged
in the spacebetween my lungs


in a thin voice

youth erodes—
a strange language prayerful
resurrected


my scales spent years      in silence     alongside     the hollow vowels     of a whale     echoing   through oil-black     ocean


im smaller than a syllable body of fire coral & salt
my waterlogged languagedissolves with each inhale
mwtrlggdlnggdsslvswthchnhl


make me the colossal squid
not the one thawing in a salt bathcorehalf-frozenflesh
moon-pale & dissected
but the one who lurks in the Antarctic abysssearching bony
maps for seamountssolace
f l o a t i n g
through the submarine cryosphere


what i mean is
i know what it’s like to hold a dead animal
in my hands, to carve out creature’s breath
with bone knife, to know the precise weight
of its limp body, without ever looking
into its eyes—

i pretend to know


frac/ture of flesh & bone

]
] interglacial period
]

then:   tectonic shift—


I want to breathe, and mean it.

Sarah Escue is a poet, visual artist, and editor in Boulder, Colorado. Her poems and artwork appear or are forthcoming in DIAGRAM, Lullwater Review, Dialogist, After the Pause, Tooth n Nail, So To Speak, Hermeneutic Chaos Journal, and others. You can visit her website at sarahescue.com.

This originally appeared on July 12, 2017