1 poem by Anna Chotlos

CICADA

 

I had indeed been trying to figure out, in a sort of a teary panic,

what about you might change on T, and what would not. -Maggie Nelson, The Argonauts

                                                       

​

a cicada begins

underground sloughing one

 

likeness for a brighter

form secretly woven in the depths

 

of the earth pale green second body

rending seams always intended to burst

 

as wings unfold brittle

maps facing uncharted territory

 

fearfully and wonderfully

made this new cartography

 

of body -

 

lost for the right gesture,

I change your name

in my phone