By Jen Hawkins
Honorable Mention, Poetry, Create | Encounter 2019
“As [my sister Grace] grew, I took to bribing her for her time and affection …anything a sexual predator might do to woo a small suburban girl I was trying ...”
“Now I can say that I still haven’t had an abortion, but I wish I had …” – Lena Dunham
Not hazing; joining.
No handshake secreter, no code word, no caul
reclining we stand, united we sprawl
When the time is ripe for ripping, make like Eve enticing
set for him your sticking place, beg a serpent come
(Placenta
an eyelid
he was just
learning sleep)
and empty of him
in fulfillment of the sisters
Out, damned spot. Damned Tadpole King. Out, you pretty parasite
(slit open
the blind and
wake him
in pieces)
and breathe a Lamaze farce a wakeful lullaby
(sleepwalk forever
for a sweetening sluice)
better a bedknob better a broomstick better by hook hose curette crook
anything but a gavel, Grace
Oh, enormous smallness
Oh devouring little
her cleft pelvis her bearded unlikeness
her red royal carpet uncoiled for the runt
(straddled the cauldron and burned sex off like a wart)
a speechless ghost crowning (kindling)
the women are roaring.
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