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Jos Charles reads her poem “LVII. [tonite I wuld luv to rite]”.
Jos Charles:
http://www.joscharles.com/
From feeld by Jos Charles (Minneapolis: Milkweed Editions, 2018). Copyright © 2018 by Jos Charles. Used with permission from Milkweed Editions. milkweed.org
Brought to you by Complexly, The Poetry Foundation, and poet Paige Lewis. Learn more: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/
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Jos Charles:
http://www.joscharles.com/
From feeld by Jos Charles (Minneapolis: Milkweed Editions, 2018). Copyright © 2018 by Jos Charles. Used with permission from Milkweed Editions. milkweed.org
Brought to you by Complexly, The Poetry Foundation, and poet Paige Lewis. Learn more: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/
11 issues of Poetry, subscribe today for $20: https://poetrymagazine.org/OursPoetica
Follow us elsewhere for the full Ours Poetica experience:
twitter.com/ourspoeticashow
instagram.com/ourspoeticashow
facebook.com/ourspoeticashow
#poetry #ourspoetica
So this is poem LVII from my recent collection field.
I wrote this poem, it was during a month in which I had multiple friends who were all trans women who passed away, two by their own hand, one who was murdered, and I was processing that so all these things sort of coalesced into this knot, it felt like for me I had to write.
LVIL
tonite i wuld luv to rite the mothe inn the guarden / 2
greev it / & as a mater off forme / did u kno
not a monthe goes bye / a tran i kno doesnt dye / just
shye off 27 / its such a plesure to be alive /
inn this trembled soot / u lent / shock is a
struktured responce / a whord lost inn the mouthe
off keepers / & u them at the mothe / a dozen bes /
i tetherred thees nites / i gathred so manie treees
I wrote this poem, it was during a month in which I had multiple friends who were all trans women who passed away, two by their own hand, one who was murdered, and I was processing that so all these things sort of coalesced into this knot, it felt like for me I had to write.
LVIL
tonite i wuld luv to rite the mothe inn the guarden / 2
greev it / & as a mater off forme / did u kno
not a monthe goes bye / a tran i kno doesnt dye / just
shye off 27 / its such a plesure to be alive /
inn this trembled soot / u lent / shock is a
struktured responce / a whord lost inn the mouthe
off keepers / & u them at the mothe / a dozen bes /
i tetherred thees nites / i gathred so manie treees