Koby Omansky

Tombaby Wrapped In Blanket Statement

Koby Omansky
Tombaby Wrapped In Blanket Statement

By Koby Omansky

“Hurt”

As a verb, noun, adjective, sacrifice

to the greater god of grammar

subject to the same debate as dresses:

made to fit us or made us to fit them?

The gendering of cloth and letter.

Quilts stitched by matriarchs to swaddle

patriarchs stitching up words to stitch

matriarchs to quilting,

 

When I am pinkened and tight-sheathed

in clothes that love me soft, girl, bendy,

current--

There is watch, watching, watched.

And then, the sequel: loose-limbed

In boy shirt pant, thumb in a loop,

Cocked-out foot. Men will drink from

 

The honey of girl or the nectar of boy,

us, the flower of permittance, them,

hummingbirds that have wars.

 

The bellybutton, having fed,

the breast, to feed,

the ass, fed on. Bear me son.

Bear me daughter

 

who looks nothing like you,

sidewalk girl. From whose fountain

we have sprung, they remind us: drink up,

baby, there’s so much more where it

came from.

The few ways to fend. That hurt, wearing,

 

Juice of the slipping, sewing by

streetlight,

eaten, eating, having eaten, show it!

the embroidered rose,

lit up from within the burning place

called out in the dark.