After Jake Gyllenhal
when the camera bites red / I belly-crawl through Los Angeles / with a talisman of python tongues / city / shouts like someone / at the end / of a horror movie / monster / falling out of the highway /hived baby / born to cotton-haired Henry / how holy / the beast / how holy / the night / I shift through / I ghost past / the gaping door / that froths with silver / with incantations / hunch up / the baptism-white staircase / unearth the woman / shot / a Schiele / across the couch / for aren’t I / a Jesus too? / I worship her into the lens / shine a light / over scattered lungs / tell her / quiet / & she does / I pose her in the beam / nose cocaine-dusted / cartilage red & soft / see the gunmen clad / in vulture down / warm / beneath her spider / eyelids / for aren’t I / a Judith too? / blood collapsing the cushions / flock of finches / windows shaped by cupped hands / I tear open her fatigues / press her name to my lips / tell it / vive / vive / vive / Rick says / if you let it / swallow you whole / says / if you let it / dissolve you / into sleep / in response / I give him a dead mouse / in response / he pours me a fistful of sand / so I aim the camera / at his forehead / tell him / disappear / into my ribs / & he does /
Kathryn Hargett is a college kid from Alabama, Pushcart-nominee, and Kundiman fellow in poetry. She is the editor-in-chief of TRACK//FOUR, a literary magazine for people of color. Her work has been published by or is forthcoming from Anomaly, the Adroit Journal, the Blueshift Journal, A-Minor Magazine, Tinderbox Poetry Journal, and elsewhere.