trapped in the pentacles of your mother’s neurons I laughed

Let me be a volcano
like our mothers could never be
dying for lack of iron

We aren’t the ghosts, now
in fathers’ mansions
that's just where they’d like to keep

It's a gene-
tic crapshoot
they sigh
dipping into the pools of heaven
like fools and drunkards

we are more honest
than the law allows-
our heart is really
a rainforest temporality
& many souls

How could we not eat
their dreams and spit
out the unworthy bones?

Joy KMT is a MacDowell, Callaloo, Vona, and Heinz Fellow. She is published in Black Quantum Futurism Volume 1 and 2, Black Girl Dangerous, The Feminist Wire, Nepantla, Adrienne, Pluck! The Journal of Affrilachian Arts & Culture, Blackberry, a magazine, Backbone Press, Fledgling Rag, Sugared Water, The Blueshift Journal, joINT literary journal, Psalms for Mother Emanuel: an Elegy from Pittsburgh to Charleston, a chapbook commissioned by the Pittsburgh Foundation, HEArt Journal Online, and others.

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