The Muse of Bad Poems
March 22, 2021Poetry by Paula Bonnell
She says, “Just hum me a few bars” — as though you were the one in charge of this gig.
She says, “Just hum me a few bars” — as though you were the one in charge of this gig.
Sound like flesh warms the back of our necks, fills that space between vertebrae and skull.
All day I bundled my strength in my lantern room and shone.
I’m animated by the fierce intention to figure out what matters.
I know a lot about empty skylines and the land that has become a hollowed belly.
Privilege and racism are real, and not just in South Africa.
It knows the value in the discarded, knows the drama of the search.