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Writer's pictureLammergeier Staff

[this poem takes place on the surface of an estrogen sun}. | Nevada-Jane Arlow


(neo-cthtonic howl)


on the day of the inauguration of a new goddess

seven doves died, eaten alive by eight crows

we buried them with her when she burned out


took us a long to get here

tracked the fine lines of an estrogen-angel

i can’t remember if it was pink or purple

the colour of a thousand crushed snails


the light is something else here

no chorus of a solar god

that arrogance was blinding

but we had the guts to castrate horus



this is passion, the real stuff

everything is new



we are the daughters of her radiation

intervention far-off, star-signals creating

mutant women who can’t bleed

or won’t



i reach into adam’s chest and break each of his ribs





Nevada-Jane Arlow got her name from a series of dreams about the Mojave desert. She is a writer and performance artist whose work has been featured in Queer Poets Write about Nature, Lantern Magazine, and the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation. She lives in Toronto and longs for primordial mud.


Twitter: @FakeDesertGirl

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