POETRY: in the alley behind the drop-in

By dm gillis

beats being burned at the stake,
Tina says of her ECT

and though it is true that in our age
mad women are not witches
she has nonetheless been turned to ash

and fuck! I spit

but I need something else, she says
(her dealer has an office in a hospital)
everything’s still so somethingless
and I can still hear black

so I cover her ears with my hands
—conjurations and orbits—
I hear them too and
a voice that says,

it won’t be pretty
but
she’ll out last you all
she’ll out last you all
she’ll out last you all

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I’ve stopped asking, do you hear?
because the you(s) in the room,
the visible(s), never can—
would catch fire if they did

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2 thoughts on “POETRY: in the alley behind the drop-in”

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