Poetry by Rose du Charme

     Subharnab Majumdar CC




The Honor of Slaughter or The Mangling of Language by Meaning  

I am the dirt beneath   the coffin most often    nothing 
new  blooms   here and like the            carp                       I harbor teeth 
in my throat and           there is  violence at every one 
of my                                  orifices. The evidence:           they were shaped by  worship. 
So,         let   this body be a              reliquary.            Let    the elegies 
I write     be estuaries between              tears and spunk.           New soft duets 
with times I declared myself         a punk.        when I carved          
resistance          out of concrete.           Prayed to                                         blisters on my feet 
and ankles. I will roll                     cigarettes of old         rose petals, 
keep      my hospital bracelet      on, my hair       long and black.  
I will                     open                     my mouth to                            snarl. I will rarely 
ever       bite      unless       it is His shoulder or her shoulder 
but         never                  your shoulder,               never ever your shoulder,   never your  
shoulder.       Never        your shoulder, never        your shoulder, never your shoulder. 



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Rose du Charme is a poet from Long Island, New York. They have been published in HIKA, Violet Indigo Blue Etc, The Cackling Kettle, From Glasgow to Saturn, and Pith Zine. You can find them in Washington Square Park writing poems for strangers on their typewriter. 

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