WE ROWDY
BY EMILY O’NEILL
got brought
up from mud
& pond scum
tadpole girl but
drop girl & just say
“fledgling” / no flight
yet / too patient to be
boy but lost
ones roost here
call me close
enough to pocket knife
that I join the circle
in service of claws
& in service of pulling
at the scruff of a neck
& in service of the nest
I dream from / only blade
away from Roman candle
they’ve called the cops
on our devolution from civilized
to tinderbox / light me
at the ankles / here comes
the show / think lovely
knots in the hardwood
think sewing needle
in the pads of our fingers / blood
brothers because we insist
& in service of the star we’ve stolen
I’ve got a crow sewn in my throat
sounding out a new husk
& in service of cake & kill
& the cave flooded with never
when you believe
