Jawbone, Ribcage by Emily Holman

Jawbone, Ribcage Emily Holman I Split [The chord of my brain as it connects to] [] [my spine snaps; thoughts gone, gone] Myself Apart, [My spine snaps, a snare trap of my own] [] [melancholy design, hospitalized within] From Underneath [Profound enchantments, spellike words,] [] [if I even am who I say I am; beginnings] My Jaw, [Entrails, tingling numbness, bleeding] [] [hearts, beating to an eerie chanting] Tearing My [I shake a bony hand; where is your skin?] [] [disintegration, if I fall apart entirely] Tongue In [A heavenly blue pours out of me, exhaust] [] [by formalities, by ritualistic movements] Two, To [Autopsied, on a cold silver table, open] [] [and spoon-fed wild herbs and potions] Expose My [Breathe in; the cold air fills my lungs] [] [up to its ballooned capacity, now warm] Humanity, Revealing [Thrums and thralls of an otherworldly] [] [power, disembodied voices call to me] Worms And [Who puzzle-pieced me together before,] [] [assembling lamb for slaughter, for god?] Rot And [No longer made of metal, jellied eyes] [] [leap from my skull. I can grow again.] Blood.More from Emily Holman ↓@maximumsparrow on InstagramHer chapbook Dreamscapes of the Metaphysical is published through 318 Journal. Mentioned in this episode:Write After with One Poem OnlyWrite After is a way to encourage poets to listen and write, and use National Poetry Month to highlight how listening to poetry makes us better poets. I know I write the best when I’m surrounded by beautiful poetry–it’s part of the reason I created this podcast, and I want to encourage others to share this practice. If you want to join: Listen to a poem from the month of April on One Poem Only, then write your own in response. I will pick one for each day to read in June for a special series: One Poem After 🍎🍏 Submissions close May 15.Write After Submissions Form