Recent Post
@metatronpress

- 44 minutes ago

RT @internetfantasy: Sunday Brunch Reading ✨ Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke — Stephen Mitchell Translation ✨ 11AM PST / 2PM…
h J R
@metatronpress

- 1 day ago

RT @casonsharpe: yes, the rumours are true: join me later today for the inaugural edition of Cason’s Storytime Corner on Instagram Live via…
h J R
@metatronpress

- 2 days ago

Welcome to #InternationalPoetryMonth! All of our poetry books are 30% off for the month of April with code poetry4e… https://t.co/6LhOGHAdaI
h J R
@metatronpress

- 2 days ago

RT @internetfantasy: ok y’all it’s national poetry month i’m gonna just leave this here !! 🔮 https://t.co/diMaSE8Gqc
h J R
@metatronpress

- 2 days ago

Here is a snippet of @MIDNIGHTFILTH reading from her debut ʔbédayine 🥰 Available as a book/e-book:… https://t.co/McwNpGDcB6
h J R
Archives

OMEGA | Olivia Wood
2290
post-template-default,single,single-post,postid-2290,single-format-standard,ajax_fade,page_not_loaded,,qode-theme-ver-6.3,wpb-js-composer js-comp-ver-5.0.1,vc_responsive

Olivia Wood

23 Feb Olivia Wood

LOT

 

In keeping the body private that morning,
Her hand sucking between the saucer and the cup—

Leisure did not occur it had been acquired,
I am not leisure in second person.

The red of the red work, she will be alone in this
For a month at least. The way out makes me

Angrier than I can imagine,
Than you could. Repetition quiets, binds,

Repetition educates and distills, mutes me, I desire it
Do you remember desire? How do I write

Hanging for three days then
Hold forgiveness? Forget dexterity, my lot,

my lot swinging down lifeless
my lot foraging through along swan island without me

And I here determining gifts, fashioning girdles,
Noteless, divining, without eyes or fins

The legs packed in hard with earth, our legend leaking on
Ahead without us.

 


Olivia Wood was born in Portland, Maine and now lives in Montreal. Metatron published her debut, A Work No One Told You About.

More Recent Posts