just wanted to share this since i didn't make it to the workshop this weekend.
In water & womb of rhizomes, whales’ cords dissect the walls of split & salt. I awake from into dark to pounding & rhyme of lips linking space to breath. I begin, here, in long sleep & wakefulness, my lungs strangled, impetus to
permutations of color, tongue, & brain & unconceivable explanations concurrent with time. Yet, how my skin recalls scales swept clean by a tongue the taste, the salt & honeycomb of padded membrane memories & the calcified stickum of belong ness
before purged jetsum into color bends even as my eyes unfolded & blinked the brightness of stretch & fringed warmness. I grew thick & weary, an excess of my mother’s womb. I am told, later in life, something happened
the way I lost my name & father’s name; renamed the colors & streets the instance strange tongues strangled the whales’ call & darkness blotched to light. I was betrayed & crucified by my own tongue & hands.
-maria miranda maloney/ 5-31-08