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dirty by Ava Blushe is a murky woman
with her hair turning evergreen
her face is covered in mud
but her eyes shine through
crawling through the leaves,
she can twist her body in ways
that only animals understand
her fingers twist like a branch
on an old oak tree
on her knees,
she feels the bugs crunch beneath
these her kin
these her breath takes in
these are her final days
and she cannot stand
the rain. 05/18/2009 Author's Note: crap. this is, i know.
Posted on 05/18/2009 Copyright © 2025 Ava Blu
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 05/18/09 at 10:25 PM The image here is strong stuff and definitely has a good element of being quite stark, effective and even a little chilling, but I have to admit that it feels like something might be missing, like a couple of details are missing, and what's here, as good as it is, is not quite complete. I don't know. I could be absolutely off the mark. Again, I do really like the here and now. There's a great sense of agelessness to this woman, as though she's been haunting the streets of her city for years. It's terrific stuff. |
| Posted by Samiah Haque on 05/18/09 at 10:39 PM reading this i feel as though she is also screaming as she contorts her body but it's--the frequency--only a few birds acknowledge her shriek and fly and her pain resonates. the 'incompleteness' of this piece is what i think adds most to its style, the raw yearning. either way, this is a strong, powerful write. |
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