by Madeline Tecmire<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
towering from the sink, porcelain cities whole enough<\/p>\n
to wind up shattered\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 littered air seeping<\/p>\n
from my throat like scalding sausages of magma<\/p>\n
why am I so angry<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n why am I looking for myself in the laundry & uncovering<\/p>\n prescription glasses\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 the room bleeding hot color<\/p>\n patient rage breeding this rotting home<\/p>\n how can I shatter with more control<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n how can I floss-tie my teeth to my tongue\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 my breath a crispy bite<\/p>\n chattered & swallowed through brimming bellies\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 again & again<\/p>\n I grind myself into squeegeed whines and swallow\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 again & again<\/p>\n I fever palm fine China<\/p>\n & fling it to the fucking sky.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Madeline Tecmire is a poetry candidate at the University of Montana’s MFA program studying feminist literature and writing poems about female sexuality, and her personal favorite: female rage. Armed with curt language and stellar sonics, Madeline is convinced that poetry can unfold and reform patriarchal views if the poem can scream loud enough. When Madeline isn’t tending her coffee jitters or reading about Sapphic masturbation techniques, she’s converting a school bus to find herself along the Pacific Coast Highway.<\/p>\n
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