Skullduggery

this one wasn’t made by god or xir angels                                         she was spat out

(           hacked free from xir clawed throat,    folded into tissue,                                discarded as

gershom’s foreskin

                                       see: that

                                                                rosy lip dribbling

                                                                                                               blood on his father’s sandal    )

                                                                                                                                                      spluttered up

when that showgirl who bore her

(           her mother the

                                                                 unhinged ferris wheel in         the christmas play,

her mother the                                     moon in drag,                          her mother the moon in a

cycle of revenge     )           gave up used panties for lent

                                              and was met feet first by

                                                                      a concrete manger and its

streetlight choir, still cauled

                                                        in a west mesa fastfood joint parking lot at 3:39am

after mid-midlife crisis, area family man —scorning his career and social obligations—

                                                                                                    licked his chops and hoofed it.

---

Nailah Mathews is a nonbinary Black poet to whom books and Black lives matter. Their poetry has been featured in Hennepin Review, Lolwe, Passenger Journal, the Black Lesbian Literary Collective, among others. When not writing, they are ankle deep in other people’s stories or wrangling Olive and Martini, their two very bad cats. They can be reached at nailahwritesnovels.com for inquiries.