Three Inaugural Poems by jacklyn janeksela

human morality is a distant planet, a fading star

from a distance, a bomb-pop is melting
someone licks the drippings, but not me
and not anyone i know, they swallow like porn
stars, hum all the way down on
a star-bangled banner, gag

on poverty, the heel of bread toughened
like skins of pigs and patriots and people, yes
people, rather reinforcements, drones, clones
balling up wads of dough and dollars
they toss them into rivers, bodies upon bodies of

water, a puddle on the street just big enough
to bathe a baby that’s baked fresh, home-made,
from real, true American sun and soil, son

of a bitch, they’ve got the news on again
no one flinches at dead bodies any more, but
what is a flesh suit, where is this place from
which i dangle, to forget this world, how can
we walk backwards, re-wind, be kind
one foot

at a time, someone says, and the crowd divides
one half hushes, the other half
cries, this isn’t even my country and it’s not theirs
either, so then,
who’s is it, boy

oh boy, schools burned and burning, uphold
myth, canonize legend, hallways as narrow
as budgets and high speed bullets, the funding a
pill that gets us all high
flying, aimed towards a second planet where
the explosion will be a new
holiday for freedom fighters,
for real humans
blacken

watch what you learn, watch how it makes you un-grow, watch the time not unwind

part i.  the milk bone, the milk teat, the milk tit, the utter
they say, milk does a body good & y’all believe them, the same non-people who tell the world:
the moon landing was real
money, we need money, money, money
so you need to make your life work, work, work
don’t worry about the preachers who aren’t taxed but
pay your taxes to us, to us, to us
just fill out this form & we’re working on that
brown people are immigrants & black people must be controlled under all circumstances
we earned this here America
this is our country, our country, they say

 

part ii.  building you was easy
but you buy you a gallon anyways and despite, ‘cause your baby needs fortified bones and that gallon got extra victims and vitamins D and C and political potassium all good enough for your baby so it can fight against a system that is a system that is a system that is a system and systems are made for robots, get it, you’re a robot, they made you, you are a mother fucking robot

 

part iii.  in almost three parts, like the triad or trifecta of some religious nutty construct
first of all don’t be mad at me for saying that.
i come from the deep down, you don’t even know that place exists yet.  the deep down is pure.
it’s like heaven, but instead of up, it’s down.  don’t pull that the devil is tricky bullshit.  the devil is not real.  and jesus is not gonna save your ass.
this deep down is where people are non-robot humans.  they are universal and black and brown as they wanna be.  you can go there.  we can go there.  but you have to listen up, like for real listen up.
second of all, you get no more sleep.  from now on you stay non-sleeping.  forget stuff like your old self.  like your old thoughts.  like everything from the beginning.
we’re rewinding.  we are gonna grow all over again.  but together.  so we’ll be doubly stronger.
get ready ‘cause the shit hurts.  you will cry, you will want to rip out parts of you, but don’t.  don’t do that because that’s what the system wants.  they want you falling to bits.  i mean look at the food they give you, non-food.  look at the medicine they give you, poison.
but don’t be afraid.  do not be afraid.  there’s nothing to be afraid of.
once you get there you’ll be like damn why did no one tell me this before.  and we can live there together.  and when we smile it will be a real smile.

 

part iv.  all the way down to stop then start but not machines, only humans
and we have to reprogram, we have to reboot, we have to stick a big boot in the ass of the machine, watch it explode, then never make machines again.  and when we destroy the machine our mouths will open with such ease, grease the hell outta the mandible, let us open our mouths and pray.  to reveal all the pearls that have been hiding out there for all these years.  have you seen people with teeth like pearls?  they say they’re divers, this group of pearled-teeth humans, not like those humans made by the past few centuries, like you and me, these are real people, we don’t even know they exist, but they do.  they have these pearls they’ve been safe keeping and they grew themselves.  can you believe that?  you know what else they told me, they say down there, way down there where the light don’t go, way down there where other life forms think life isn’t possible is where the prettiest things grow.  but they say don’t get it twisted because pretty don’t mean weak, those beasts withstand some harsh weather, conditions unfit for even the most resilient of animals.  and i’m like what animal you think is the most resilient and they say human.

unbodied babies

that’s not a gun
that’s a un-gun
palmed by any number of unyoung and young ones alike

that’s not a heart
that’s an un-heart
cradled by the body of a unsung songbird just alive enough

that’s not a body
that’s a body
and that’s a body
and that’s a body
and that’s a body
and that’s a body
another body and
another body
and all the bodies
of un-white babies
there are no more bones
the crows have eaten them all up
piles of un-white babies
floating behind the flag like shadows, like ghosts

jacklyn janeksela is a wolf and a raven, a cluster of stars, & a direct descent of the divine feminine. she can be found @ Thought Catalog, Luna Luna, Talking Book, DUM DUM, Visceral Brooklyn, Anti-Heroin Chic, Public Pool, Reality Hands, The Feminist Wire, Word For/Word, PANK, Split Lip; Stoneslide Corrective Aftermath issue; Civil Coping Mechanism anthology A Shadow Map; & Outpost19 Rooted anthology; & elsewhere. she is in a post-punk band called the velblouds. her baby @ femalefilet. her chapbook fitting a witch//hexing the stitch forthcoming (The Operating System, 2017). she is an energy. find her @ hermetic hare for herbal astrological readings.

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