POETRY
“Poetry is language at its most distilled and most powerful.”
Dylan Krieger’s poetry is unflinching, grotesque, and beautiful. Her work tackles trauma, wrestles authority, and is a decadent sonic feast.
I count my homes—
those of my scattered youth
the sanctuary of our young family
the intermittent rest stops
of apartments and vacations.
the man is stayed bent over the canvas
of my sofa. the man is me the man is him
self and I bring down the whip…
I tap at the alphabet while a single deer
taps at the dirt beyond the brush
on the far side of the tree line.
Should have found a job by now; should have slept in the night;
should have boiled old coffee before noon.
Even as the sun warms the concrete
the long nights’ sensual cold lingers in my clothes.
I slumped in front of a massive desk, a passive patient corroded with failure and dread.
If America is Babylon / and you are an exile / newly arrived among pagans / Catholic, ‘Ngolan, Black, woman / you already know how to pray
You let the yellow glow
from eye sockets. The building up the street
is burning faster and faster.
Ghosts for hire, whispers in her mouth,
cysts to feel, the symmetry of a gift.