Before they tell us how to look
at our kilt brothers' bodies:
Tell them we already know how to see ‘em.
Tell them we been mournin' bullet-warmed
blood long before they told us: now this is how
you interpret a death
Tell them we grew up learning how to
Tell them we grew up learning how to run.
Tell them we been smearing our brothers'
dark wet stuff on our berry-black cheeks
long before those folks was mewlin' and baby-soft
Tell them our blood belongs
to all of them too.
Tell them to look at our wounds, still
hot and wide-open:
damn it, just
look look look
Added: Friday, August 5, 2016
Jennifer Maritza McCauley is a Gus T. Ridgel Fellow and PhD candidate in creative writing at the University of Missouri, as well as Contest Editor at The Missouri Review, an associate editor of Origins Literary Magazine, a book reviews editor at Fjords Review and a fiction editor at Sliver of Stone. Her most recent work appears or is forthcoming in Puerto del Sol, New Delta Review, Feminist Wire and Literary Orphans among other outlets.