j/j hastain & Juliet Cook

CLOTS PUSH OVER THE EDGE

Trying to catch clots in glass jars.

A bottom leg cut off
in last night's dream.
I awaken with tremulous vibrations
vigorous iterations
after dreaming of amputated
legs running rampant
in a desert
I knew that I
was in a drought
with cast iron replacing the thighs
with no more liquid dripping out.

How will I create a bright new half
moon? How and why will
that moon will me
wet? I want
to be a cavern
open
unclenched
but right now
the dark pit
between
is pith
covered in
need of recovery.

Moon dance, moon dangled beads, I need
to bleed again.
I need ancient versions of me
not all of these exhausting weeds.

I need to rip out the weeds,
make hair for a marionette,
give her away and then
grow my own new hair.
Wing it out of this dry, dark spell.

Increase the decibel on complexity
of shamanist ringing
a marionette
drag and fall
a way of poking pins in
the rag doll
until it morphs

Into a blood dripping dessert.

j/j hastain is a collaborator, writer and maker of things. j/j performs ceremonial gore. Chasing and courting the animate and potentially enlivening decay that exists between seer and singer, j/j, simply, hopes to make the god/dess of stone moan and nod deeply through the waxing and waning seasons of the moon. Juliet Cook is a grotesque glitter witch medusa hybrid brimming with black, grey, silver and purple explosions. She's deeply involved with Blood Pudding Press and Thirteen Myna Birds and her own poetry has appeared in oodles of different sources.