Wednesday, August 2, 2023

Sophia Magliocca : a poem

 

The Book of Repulsive Women
                    
   
Elusive

i.

pale body
hard thighs

star-light as you are

your short arms

         
ear

         
lace

       
   lip

cool to feel ripe

soaked           skin

                     
rain
                      face   half strangled
sprawling over the sharp of grass

lean and coil across

into the damp madness of woman

 

ii.

strain out of space
musician in heat

call this soft spot guilt

your mouth spins loose
sharp cries

shout modern babylon

look up

vague blue veins
bulging beast

I mean breast

 

iii.

more plunging under
spin into your mother’s tablecloth

call this a game trickster

         
draw a card
another upside-down naked woman 

                              
spoiled
soft and still dewy

tongue dancing on cheek

 

iv.

roll out of town
cross meekly in the streets

use fast feet

window-shop chinaware

                    
  upturned vacant rooms
swear her eyes bloom into gold

pray words won’t break it off

confess her dress to dirty sheets 

at the stairs disperse

curse out through an open door

Think of a woman
                    
       at the playground
                                 on the balcony of an old castle
                                 knee deep in a puddle
                                 swimming on a beach somewhere
                                 storing snails in a pail
                                 flying overhead
                                             light
                        strong

                                        
    by the chimney
                        occasionally

                       
out of sight

 
                                 tuned

                                        
    to golden hour
                                               a wind song in the hymn of girl
                                          fleshy clapping
                                               six rings of a small bell
                                               an earworm
                                               a chime echoing east
                                  soiled 
                              
          on the other side of the road
                                         covered by a crowd
                                         at the backend of a rotting shed
                                         by the underside of an overpass
                                                      a lily

 

 

 

 

Sophia Magliocca is a Master’s student in English Literature at Concordia University (Tiohtià:ke/ Montreal) where she researches the effects of (mis)interpreting how women's legacies are documented across literary history. Sophia is a known lover of travel, pasta and orange cats. Most recently she has published poetry in Canadian literary journals such as Yolk and Montreal Writes. Her debut chapbook Girl gives long-fingered self-portrait is forthcoming this month with above/ground press. Find her on Instagram @sophmagli