Leaving the City + La Diablesse
poetry by Maryam Gowralli
My mother told me stories
of a man who left for the forest
and was gifted the speech of tigers,
when I drive down empty roads
tires probing meaning
I see yellow eyes
in the flickering headlights.
country sojourner, you gaze at me in rough
lips psychedelic rum, see i live in the old tales
of thick thighed psychostasia. weighting between
the self-actualized fat of my body and the
flickering of french-kissed soul. see i move
between the reeds of your field notes and
bones that suck marrow. drunk euphonious
ethnographic pastry, shanties dressed
in jazzy belle. everynight grab at me in
sway, wakeful sweet-cane sunday.
semi-heifer temptress, clippity clop
caustic-cold continual knots, a legend
of forever communion i pray. male carrion
of blessed foreplay. a decoupage of will-she’s,
wont-she’s, and lets maybe eat you whole please.
Maryam Gowralli is a recently graduated student from the University of Calgary, who has completed a BA in English with Distinction. As a Canadian, she draws polyvocal inspiration from her diasporic Trinidadian-Indian and Indonesian tribal heritage. She was an editor for The Quill Magazine and NōD Magazine, with works to be found at The Waking, untethered, and other literary journals. Her poetry collection, Citizenship in Water is forthcoming with That Painted Horse Press (2021).
jbbartram-illu
2087
baratheonpilled
dededos
