Macha

All my feelings are
different and this one
is the most
Of all places here
where women once retired
from the men for fear
of boring them
I am so bloody in my own bath
of wild hairs
that I couldn’t possibly
join you tonight
for that colonial thing
Heroin or whore
Babylon or Bethlehem
No matter what I’m followed by
mosquitos
Flitting dicks who want me
to teach them about themselves
But everything I know is contained in capsules
of macha that break down
in my bloodstream
And I wouldn’t recommend it
for the fairer sex
who should buck up and study up
on their condition
I used to feel sick for all my sloth
but not anymore
In wanting to please
I have sinned
In leaning in I have sinned
In breaking in two
I feel sin
So
Vete ya
A haircut and a hard cock
is all I need
To govern a family
My rod
cutting them down
supplicant on the ground
For I was the first real white girl ever born
in this country of flat skulls
That’s why I’m so cocky
with my staff
and my rule rock hard and inconsistent
with my favor
The mouths of L’Age d’Or
sucked well at my pre-war stockings
before cocktail hour
Bells rang and trays of mosquitos
were served with tarts
We hadn’t meant to kill them with La Macha
which includes but is not limited to:
a goddess religion
unfaultering at the altar of shade
an erotics of object-identification
and compassion extending beyond the grave
My sister and I drank mournfully but afterwards
we still danced all night
wearing quite literally bedazzled bustiers
and veils of a dead boy’s smoke
que mala after beating their macho dead
in ultra-feminine swoops
How do they want us to think of them now
our brothers haviing left so little charisma behind
on the internet
to aggrandize
Such small mosquitos
And though we are mourning we are still so macha
as we chip the thin teeth of traitors
and huff the scent of babies
and slap each other on the asses
and father seven times
and punish the bull
with its own marbled horns
But though we’re cocky we are still martyrs
My sister says quita la macha
and I’m like why
It’s okay to make up slogans in the spirit of revolution
and she’s like ok but
after you systematically destroy machismo you must
put his teeth to gnash at your engorged breasts
for any sort of catagenesis to occur
and I’m like that could be hot
But it isn’t the new love
conceived by and for macha
or is it?
idk
idk either
i really dk
So we taught our brothers all these methods of cameo
that they may take a small symbol of macha
to wear around their necks
to the part of culture where the money
used to be kept
May they remember the strength
of their mother’s biceps as they show mercy
to their fathers who are teleological
till the end of supremacy
which is the beginning of macha
Kiss the black lips that feed you
the corn hips that rock you
and blight the prayers after you’ve said them
Santa Mala
Madre de Mala
ruega por nosotros pecadores
ahora y en la ahora de nuestra muerte
Hand me my beads
War without end
Amén
Monica McClure, “Macha” from Tender Data. Copyright © 2015 by Monica McClure.

The Mother-goddess Ishtar Evelyn Paul
The Mother-goddess Ishtar Evelyn Paul