it’s rotten work

after Anne Carson

and who am I  

corpse     maggoted and swollen 

to say that I am worth the work 

worth its stench 

who am I 

to come after anyone at all 

but then I remember her 

the way—at sixteen I heaved

   between both bulbous

childhood knees—she whispered and 

I thought she 

 was singing you’re never okay

it’s hard work 

 but someone else will want to do it 

and I was still alive then 

pre-rigor mortis  

had I been 

this zombied thing I might

have grabbed her 

might have     sunk my teeth in 

  but I was just a girl then 

and these days I have to 

remind myself 

so was she

Bleah Patterson is a queer, southern poet from Texas. A current PhD student at the University of North Texas, much of her work explores the contention between identity and home. Her creative and academic work have been supported by organizations like Sundress Academy for the Arts, Vermont Studio Center, Bethany Arts Community, Tin House, and SWWIMM Residency at The Betsy. Her work has also been featured or is forthcoming in various journals including Write or Die, Electric Literature, Pinch, Grist, The Laurel Review, Phoebe Literature, The Rumpus, and Taco Bell Quarterly.