Saturday, June 25
WITHOUT CHOICE (a cento) Soon enough, the whole small city of my being will demolish--- Without choice, no politics, no ethics lives. I hold my grief like two limp tulips. What am I allowed to have? Bed rest with the mysteries. Old blood. A mandala of succor and suffering. I have heard in the voices of the wind: This is my body. This is my body. As if it came from the crucible of river, from the first throat broken I will choose what enters me, what becomes, flesh of my flesh--- I did my best I worked with what I know I tilled I paved I foraged labored I have heard in the voices of the wind--- There were five orders to obey If I missed any I would be less than dead. If my body held a sign If my body itself could speak O forest that my body has set on fire What hurts? What hurts? How can I help from here? Attributions: Sharon Olds (lines 1-2); Marge Piercy (3-4, 14-15); Erika Sánchez (5-7); Alissa Quart (8-9); Gwendolyn Brooks (10, 18); Leyla Josephine (11); Purvi Shah (12-13); Camonghne Felix (16-17); Emily Jungmin Moon (19-20); Rayna Momen (21-22); Saniyya Saleh (23); Mahogany L. Browne (24-26). (Dana Levin)