A most deserved anxiety
The great pig of the North
Reeking, blood dripping from its snout
Glances warily about
For it heard the scream
Mohammad has run his knife
Through Dante’s scrotum, turns
Revving the engine of history
Back to life
We practice utopian breathing
Humming out old myths
Dictating their crusty lines to ourselves
For remembering later
Old myths can forget that they are made
In increments of breath and memory
Don’t go diving in the primordial ooze
For something unmade!
Some of us fret about having kids
They will be burned by the ocean’s flames
Choked by steel rivers made mad by black blood
The air kids breathe will devour their skin
On high-risk days
But the party needs members
And someone to love
The central committee is a fish
The politburo is the blue ridge mountains
The bureaucracy is so calcified
It’s what our bones are made of
The undulations of our brain waves
Are shaped like barricades
Off to work!
Laura Fair-Schulz, Comrade Garden (2021)
