GIRL RISING
inspired by Richard Robbins’
documentary
documentary
Given away at the hands
of cold rock
tastes the bloody flesh of letters
torn from words.
Hair billows in the distance
taken captive because all she wanted
was a pencil,
stones are thrown at her spine.
Smells the word no
as soon as she sits
on the wind broken benches.
Keep out! they say.
They dispose of her brain
throw away desktops
and hands raised.
Men slap away the chalk dust dreams.
Body succumbs to shattered
glass. Battered head lies
ripped, left for the dogs
to eat away.
All of a sudden—
the soles of her feet tremble
as she listens to the chord
of a distant drum
inside her.
She transforms into a pillar,
holds up the frayed edges of the earth
allows her fingers to be sodden with graphite
and erases scars at her mouth.
She lays pavement to new road
allows herself to sleep
on dreams about fever-pitch
that harvest paper
to write her tale where
the dirt is still trodden heavy
with cologne-soaked lies.
A new kingdom is brewing
where lips whisper
girl
rise
rise
rise.
—from 2014 Rattle Young Poets Anthology
__________
Why do you like to write poetry?
M. T.: “Poetry is like water—it’s necessary to live.”
