from CRUEL/CRUEL

PLUM HONEY PLUM SMOOTH PLUM OVERABUNDANCE PLUM SPIRAL PLUM MERITOCRACY

UYP 7


i.

               PLUM HONEY PLUM SMOOTH PLUM OVERABUNDANCE PLUM SPIRAL 
               PLUM MERITOCRACY PLUM HAY BEETLE PLUM WEIGHT OF ALL PLUM
               OVERTURNED REINSTATED REDEFINED PLUM SHIVER LIKE HONEYBEES
               PLUM SASHAY IN THE GOLD SWAT PLUM INTERRUPTION FROM THE
               SUB/DIMENSION PLUM RUTABAGA PLUM SACRIFICE ON MOLE HILL
               PLUM BELIEF THAT ONE DAY THE SIGNS WILL BE CLEAR AS FROST PLUM
               FIRE FISH LIKES NOTHING RAW PLUM FOOL PLUM IRONY PLUM MEAT
               THAT GRINDS AND REDEFINES PLUM SUFFRAGE FOR AN OVERDUE
               SPRING PLUM HONEYSUCKLE PLUM PLUM WHAT WASTE IS IMPLICIT IN
               FRUITION PLUM MIGHT PLUM DIRECT HOLY PLUM HOLY PLUM
               HOLY,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,








                                                               ii.


                                                                        pretending at something,
                                                                        plum split open,
                                                                        purple puss—
                                                                                                        playing computer,
                                                                                                        pillowing
                                                                                                                  dry
                                                                                                        palm,

                                                                        praying sideways,
                                                                        praying more,
                                                                                                        cause
                                                                        possibly

                                                                        pirouetting up riptides
                                                                                    with a
                                                                        pumpkin headed
                                                                        prissy-boy
                                                                        pristine in
                                                                        painted neon,


                                                                        pretending &
                                                                        polling & proclivities &













UYP 10



to dream past the past of shackle men and liberation lost. to dream in black neon. looking back long ago, wearing visors for vision scars; seeing the unseen and undocumented.

loosening lassos on ancestry like unraveled fruit-by-the-foot. veins protruding up-n-out of aberdeen skin, glistening ivory coast spirit. to think not of shackles broken, but of a time before. rewriting history to see theirself in it. a land before time or a time before land or property or gazes.

flowing into futures of black uprising

and bloodbath cherry streets. to
see a future with violence; restorative.
feigning no outline of peace—sangin’
we shall overcome with automatics tucked
in arm, black fists raised. to not see
any more fourths, nan more -olumbuses’. just
me and huey and ms. davis shooting the
shit after shooting some —————————

reimagine aliens as noble beings. laughing at
our inferiority. not due to colour, nor race, but inferior in
our capacity for hate. seeing a new type of first-contact.
one devoid of erasure,
one rife with life spittle.
genuflect &
reconnected to a vision,
most high (inshallah).
laying purple reefs royal,
cross unshackled, exalted ankles;

still hullabaloos swaying up like lost ballots. to sow the reaping
and taste moss on your fingertips. sprinkling uncertainty with
generosity & pinging onyx over alabaster.
take three steps to your left and grab everyone into
the fold. stolen truths cost a smooth tree ninety-nine
when your time is up.


sitting honest with self, slowly, my roux ever-burning.
tell me sweetness on the solstice. summer begat spring begat
winter begat —— i know of no new beginnings, rudimentary in
hope, palm leaves cover my eyes from centuries of dismay. is this,
harkening in my soul, the call that i’ve been waiting
for? one more chance for sanctity? awash in bacon grease
and crystallized syrups of dangerous beauty. unleashed
             into high-line sierras, whisked flat with bounteous
             mercy.

About the author

Dior J. Stephens is a proud Pisces hailing from Midwestern waters. He is the author of the chapbooks SCREAMS & lavender, 001, and CANNON! Their debut full-length collection, CRUEL/CRUEL, is out this spring with Nightboat Books. They are the Managing Poetry Editor of Foglifter Journal and Press.