TWO POEMS by JP THORN
burn upon reentry
i loved you the way
a cat loves its litter box
& knocking over bowls
necessarily territorial
towards your well being,
often a projection of my own
unadopted ideas. you’ll replace
them with bamboo stalks
where wind will grow songs;
lullabies for children
& classical parents,
crescendos for the chaotic
good, evil, neutral
three placemats on a table for two,
failing fibonacci sequence
in overcrowded photos,
the things we choose
to never acknowledge
though they’re right there,
framing the corner of the room.
maria mentions
florida is the birthplace
of disaster and calamity
but i was born in arizona,
you in illinois &
together we’re a blizzard,
contrary weather systems
chanced upon midwest meetup
forced together by uprising
heat until we sweltered
in the front seat of my car;
i had never been kissed
so publicly. i’d beg
for infinite february
or at the very least a leap
year, one bonus day
of the honeymoon phase
we tore through, faster than
hounds of love chasing foxes.
i wish loving was easier then,
a section skipped
in the manual of living:
how to show up as an
undåm ag ēd pa c k ag e
having been horse-tacked
& jockeyed never asked
how does it feel?
but fed so quickly
then groomed,
certain purpose
was a tiny needle in the hay
waiting to pierce my tongue;
heatmiser’s roman candle
snuffed to ellipsism
chanceless
within each poem i write a confession:
my grandmother ventured here
a confused child diet consisting of
dandelion stems & dolmades,
tiny precious gem
in the diadem weighing my head
down & around turning on an axis
of conflicting beliefs;
to untrained eyes we are
ornate shiny pawns granite-made,
to the practiced we’re industrial
pieces of that same rock
never polished,
never shaped, never formed.
there is no collaging modernity;
the canvas is thick
layers of paint over written pasts
sometimes imagined, rarely true
or dare i say accurate when
memory is subjective.
silly us, ever
expectant for translations
of history to be unbiased,
ingenuity of railways long passed
though cargo still unfolds,
first-generation immigrants designated
industrial-grade diamonds
too flawed, irregular, off-colored
or small to value as gems
but of vital importance
within metalworking & mining;
utility cannot be denied rights
even as a person, despite
fastidious patriarchal work-arounds
ships waterlogged
until past, present, future
are all manipulated
through a kaleidoscopic lens.
jp thorn a queer, neurodivergent artist raised in & returned to the south after receiving a B.A. in communications from hamline university in the twin cities. you'll usually find them in a peaceful flow state of adhd hyperfocus or ping-ponging between cat parent & hobbyist. advocate for ampersands, de-stigmatization, & radically-open communication, their work is largely inspired by identity, reframing traditionalism, therapeutic processes, unlearning patriarchy, queerness, & global patterns. you can find more of their work here, here, & their personal instagram here.