Kendra DeColo

I Am Not Trying to Hide My Hungers from the World

Punk-rock feminist poems exploring motherhood, pop culture, and resistance with a spirit of defiance, abundance, and irreverent joy

Kendra DeColo reaffirms the action of mothering as heroic, brutal, and hardcore. These poems interrogate patriarchal narratives about childbirth, postpartum healing, and motherhood through the lens of pop culture and the political zeitgeist. With references ranging from Courtney Love to Lana Del Rey to Richard Burton to Nicolas Cage, I Am Not Trying to Hide My Hungers from the World revitalizes the way we look at mothering: pushing its boundaries and reclaiming one's spirit of defiance, abundance, and irreverent joy.
43 Druckseiten
Ursprüngliche Veröffentlichung
2021

Ersteindruck

    b7891437274hat einen Ersteindruck geteiltvor 4 Monaten
    👎Zum Vergessen

    There were a few good parts but not my favorite. Read if you want something short.

    Crystal Vega-Huertahat einen Ersteindruck geteiltvor 8 Monaten
    👍Lesenswert

Zitate

    Evehat Zitat gemachtvor 11 Tagen
    from its perch guiding

    it to the starry chatter

    that hisses between songs

    wondering what will play next
    Evehat Zitat gemachtvor 11 Tagen
    I Am Not Trying to Hide My Hungers from the World Anymore

    Not trying to wipe the smears

    of gold from my chin

    not trying to erase the decadence

    of seeds and profanity

    of grease not trying

    to pretend I don’t open

    my mouth around the zaftig

    pearls of rain in the middle

    of the night or that I don’t love

    the moment right before sleep

    when I am most tender

    and translucent my bladder half-filled

    knowing I will have to get up

    and pee knowing my daughter

    will wake up before I am ready

    the way I became aware of her

    on a climb through the mountains

    a heaviness in my limbs a gentle

    premonition as I walked later

    to the Rite Aid and knew in my hands

    and I knew in my mouth

    and I knew in the way my body

    pulled me forward as I wept

    with joy but also grief

    that a part of my life was ending

    and isn’t it good to know when

    life is about to swallow you whole

    take you in its arms and say

    “Live, bitch, live”

    and you believe it

    and this is how I will carry her

    from her crib and open the curtains

    partway not ready to let the

    world in the trails of smoke

    and exhaust winter-blue

    as Cat Stevens’ Mona Bone Jakon

    spinning on the Crosley

    that opens like an old suitcase

    when my daughter stands

    on a chair lifting the stylus

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