LET’S BREAK EVERYTHING
to see what falls out. all the emptinesses
shielded by jars & crates & pots. let’s thrash
the animals & thresh the fields; see
what all it yields. i kiss a man to break
his heart. i misstep to break our dance.
so many feelings come from some unknown
place inside & i wish men were filled with more
than tears. instead, here: let’s take a hammer
to our bed & find the springs. to the armless
chair & discover the splinters of someplace
intimate. i want to collect all that’s kept inside,
to break you. but you appear & re & appear;
you wear the same body. & i keep trying
to take it off, expecting something new.
AESTHETIC GENDER
for B—-
in games, it doesn’t matter if you choose
to be a man or a woman. whoever
is supposed to love you, loves you b/c
the story requires it. nothing’s risked
if you’re a man in a red dress, tiptoeing
along the edge of some old town’s bridge:
no one will block your way with their truck,
get out, spit, & ask what do you think you are.
no one mentions rape. no one breaks your face
with the stock of a shotgun then steals your
shoes & wallet & dress. whatever harms, harms
equally. not just b/c you’re weakpretty
& alone. in games, the conflict’s easy. hurt
whatever hurts you (none of this is real).
DIE BY TOUCH
everything you touch breaks, regardless
of your intention: you, midas of delicateness.
walk towards the chair & it falls apart.
step lightly on the cat, accidentally,
& she pops into nothing. this holds true
for everyone. whosoever touches
the other first, survives. & to be touched
is to die– the short primer for safety.
b/c intimacy leads to pain. asks you to be close
with someone when you’re not even very close to yourself.
i don’t want to stay safe, to be untouched. jump
on me. break me. just give me some small reprieve
from the world as it is: give me your hand.
i flash for you. move closer. make me flicker.
___________________________
Jamison Crabtree is a Black Mountain Ph.D. fellow at the University of Nevada Las Vegas. His first book, “rel[am]ent,” was awarded the Word Works’ Washington Prize. His chapbook “rough music outside of the vacant body” was published by Sundog Lit.
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