We’ve called for reinforcements, cavalry
and stuntmen, men with quivers, men whose names
in ancient languages mean valiant
and thick of neck. Mermen and chiseled men
like the mini men on top of trophies. Men
trampled by boars to save their firstborn sons
and sonless daughters. Hotheads, tarred and feathered;
yes men, tall and monocled, bespoke,
unspoken for, and down to lead a hand.
We’re storming the perimeters and stores
of doubt, with catalogs of tragic flaws
and maps and shiny shoes, a man band marching
to the beat of Bite Me, passing madly through
the universe I used to share with you.
Caki Wilkinson
Caki Wilkinson is the author of the poetry collections Circles Where the Head Should Be (2011) and The Wynona Stone Poems (2015). Recent work has appeared in The New Yorker, the Nation, and Kenyon Review, and her third collection, The Survival Expo, will be published in 2021. She lives in Memphis, TN.
Latest posts by Caki Wilkinson (see all)
- Spell of Attraction Performed with the Help of Heroes or Gladiatorsor Those Who have Died a Violent Death - February 23, 2021
- Sinkhole Oracle - October 27, 2020
- When We Were the Queen - October 27, 2020
