Knar Gavin: Two Poems

My Cooter, Your Us

upon being expelled
from the uterus
& them brigade

my neighbor cuts off
all our hair and rolls
towel around skull

screams our uter
uses have been plucked
out, outs me out

she probably
doesn’t mean
ours—hers or mine
—but the
Platonic Table Uterus, that
uterus, and i

suppose i
supposed to
just trust—to beli
eve it’s there,
and sometimes she

she is uterustling
in the bushes—red metal
like metal
g’orged on air and G’orge
still so curious, me
and my yellow hats, so
many yellow hats

call me it’s here
when flayed open
call me it’s there
any day in this amber
gris life, alert

i am said and consider
myself a room
am too old
gris, an elephant out
side, grease

and later, little
girl on bus says
to other little girl on
bus, O-oh, naïve little girl
fi-irst sunburn! little girl is
most frightening

when little girl
says little girl—dark horse
of little girl loosing
to pound cobble in
to foot meat, even

my hooves, that i
am dispelled
and then spelled again


Meet Mouth

Phonemes am
bling over the thresh
old. I will hum a durge. I
will speak in meat or.

Knar Gavin is a doctoral candidate in English at the University of Pennsylvania and holds graduate degrees from Iowa Writers’ Workshop and Syracuse University. Author of the chapbook Vela. (the Operating System, 2019), Knar’s research pertains to environmental theory, media ecologies, experimentalism in literature, new media, and film. Recent poetry has been published or is forthcoming in AGNI, Storm Cellar, Yemassee, The Journal, Denver Quarterly Review, and elsewhere. Tumbles can be found at


What’s HFR up to? Read our current issue, submit, or write for Heavy Feather. Buy our merch. Follow us on Twitter and YouTube.