Towards Delight

by A.J. Moss

I dream of tasting you in the bed of my mother,
          drink in the top of your head my foal, my filament, my fetus
Small feet and moment of you and I,
          sleeping under slight birdsong, forty days in the oasis
                                Belonging on the quilt where I was born– not a fallow daughter– a dream-
                     body, a process, a work of art.

Difficult Mother

I will be known as a difficult mother
As I thump my way through hot sun
I will be the one they cry horror
The one they watch through half closed lids and half-drawn blinds,
Two pots of coffee and I cry
Two small hands and I write a poem
I watch your red roses child– your T-rex and snores,
Together in the flower patch we plant our way through bingo cards,
You are a number I am forever calling louder than my cords can carry
And you don’t need my cords or hands or help,
You need my visor, my shield, my strong right arm,
It’s when they watch me that I falter
It’s then I can’t hear you or see you throw yourself against the legs of the table
It’s then they see the hiccups– the red and blue berry stains
It’s not bruises I swear!
I know, I saw,
But I was here writing, I wasn’t with you
Put on the baby lock they tell me and throw away the key
I admit I fed you teeth and sidewalk berries.

BEAST

beast-woman bleeding
stuck pig moderation
mothering

i remember i remember
little voice need to take the pill night-time feedings screamings pink toes double ear infection
i
i became mighty
i learned how to roar and nothing
brought me to my knees to tears to the brink of a cliff to the window ledge
i have been bleeding for forty-eight months

my mother was strongest when she gave birth– she was beautiful
when the anger dissipated, when the screams had died down
when she howled hair let down and i
gently
brushed
a strand of hair off her forehead and i
gave her water to drink
my mother has been bleeding for three hundred and sixty months

angel-woman bleeding
stuck pig wounded
mothering.

BIO

A.J. Moss (They/She) is a 30-year-old queer parent and writer of novels and poetry. After spending the past couple of years wrangling toddlers, they are dipping their toes back into the worlds of myth, magic and imagination through storytelling. They have upcoming poetry in Juste Milieu Zine and Viscera Literary.