JUNO
recipient of the 2017 Fugue Poetry Prize, selected by Traci Brimall
JUNO
woman (n): a dessert made of strawberries
e.g. woman full of vital force superfluous form
here the fertile field of mine fallow
obscene (v): to tweeze each seed from sweet
e.g. ink and fruit such bloody scenes
strawberries may cause neurological deterioration
cancer metabolic disorders developmental disabilities
reproductive difficulty divorce
canon (n): the curated burden of history
e.g. I canon’t will myself to children
and so we separately
transcendence (n): how do you summarize our silence
transgression (n): when the gun gets hold of my ovaries
transcend the canon enter
the future (n): what do we need now
separately
without obscene reminders
you may stop remembering me
future (v): when will you taste like a long time ago
feel like stale sugar on unripe fruit
transgression means
the nature of aversion is separation
which means I future the future
wherein a black bag a cat across my path
wherein I count each smoke spot each blackened cervix
we must imagine a better future (n):
the life we want
e.g. the good grease
of a cervix-shaped onion ring
the aversive future strobes overhead, strawberry
red as the blood of the broken sonnet
my ex-husband loved
he said
mother (v): the possibility by which
you heal yourself
sitting with a peacock armed with a cannon
wearing a goatskin cloak
I mother the future
but don't want to make more
in this useless transgression
of molecules rusted red as strawberries
e.g. have I transgressed the future's vital force
as transgression have I favored the taste a woman
automatic response (n):
I don’t enjoy being human
when I'm done surviving
this thicket of myself
whisper in my ear it's not real
call me
populona (n): the proper name for a woman who loses
the bride's girdle
or a sovereign protectress, inevitable and necessary
outgrowth of fecundity
or a woman peopled by epithets
reflection (n): a non-mother woman for whom I sacrifice
a lamb or white sow
i.e. can we let each other want
what we want
i.e. don't you love the obscene scent
of a burnt match, lighting the canon
i.e. have you ever seen a woman
extract each seed from a strawberry
and plant them in herself