Poem: set fire to the girl, watch the world burn

Wendy Mould

You are a beauty, you are a beast

You write as if playing the piano-

Confident and slick, when jumping when sick

I sprout words, I sing it back

Dance with me god, let me breath-

Dance with me spirit for I need to see- clearer than any blue sky clearer than any night

They don’t understand me, nor this, nor the sun on my face nor the heat on my hands

What do I give the earth, back for me.

It will swallow me too soon.

This poem was given to me, by a strange feeling, a reeling unexplained like a dream,

a fairy party

I could scream but here comes the kinetic energy;

I push and pounce and sin quietly

I could do you, eat you and fly back into the air.

Each one of us, makes twice of you

They gave me this because I hit myself

They listen to me, do I listen to her?

When the words come, I am their student.

I bend my back backwards and hope for the best.

Oh sun god, oh Ra, oh stinkbug on the ground, oh Allah.

 I am a source, a genius, a sick child, a mad woman, a star.

When I don’t recognise myself, I become one with the tables and chairs and beds.

Oh Jesus, Oh my boss, what am I in mercy of, who do I appease?

Who do I beg for forgiveness, who do I treat-

Who do I believe what will make me sink?

If I have this, then you that and we will both be free.

Drying, I love the leaves in the sun, forming dirt for the winter

Wringing out for the summer

Here I am

Here I am

Here I am