GLACIER: TONE-DEAF KID
by Claire LeDoyen
i watched
this morning
brighter
as if study was a party
seismic calling
intercede and recede
on the expanse of hours
how can i do anything
but consider the city?
movements moving
hack away, dissipate
i thought you said you were an angel.
you were scared when i fought a demon.
threw his robes over me,
disappeared ghost of running kid
i’m sorry for your losses.
i’m sorry i don’t understand.
i play your voice cause it reminds me of home.
i play your voice. It reminds me of you.
they don’t understand it.
we don’t understand it.
are you sober?
on the phone
you were exclaiming
the prayers are starting to sound like music
did they never?
i was yelling how could you do me like that
and forget?
Claire “Scotty” LeDoyen (they/them) is a white person living in Richmond, Virginia, or rather Powhatan territory, and is originally from the Great Dismal Swamp area of Virginia, or Nansemond tribe land. A 2016 graduate from the Pratt Institute Creative Writing program, Claire interned that year at the performance studies publication Emergency Index at Ugly Duckling Presse. Their work has appeared in the Book Bloc: Critical Reactions to Racist Policing (2015), “FORCE/FIELDS” by Perennial Press, SLUG MAG and will be featured in the Kintsugi Press anthology of queer Southern writers, “We Make Our Own Light” in 2022.