ALL HAIL THE RUNNERS
(originally published 11 August 2015)
Also available as a video (read by Rhyd Wildermuth) here.
I used to believe that
the greatest act of love
was to sacrifice
to be supple
to bend like a bridge
to let you in
like I was inviting you to
tea
cake
everything
Now that I am older
I understand that this is just
a lie told to young girls
by men of your ilk
to consume
possess and conquer
young girls,
Turning them into old girls
and then throwing them away-
If they do not run first
I ran.
I ran so fast
my lips blistered and my skin cracked
while your howls followed me
for years and years
proclaiming your love hate and ownership of me
attempting to reassert your control,
to claim your land.
My body is not acreage
and
I am not what you failed to make me.
Promises made while the beast is hidden
Do Not Count
when locked in a tower
dressed in rags,
and it took at least a quarter
to relearn to trust my voice
That is the hardest part.
I forgot I had a voice,
because whenever I opened my mouth
your voice
came out
Do not listen to the pretty lies
that fall out of the lips
of those who wish
to hold your fire
only to put it out.
All hail the runners.
Hunter Hall
Hunter Hall’s a ferocious poet seen late last century lurking black-hooded about the rainy streets of Seattle. Reading Deleuze&Guattari while slinging brutal mochas, channeling serpents and raw riot through her spoken-word performances, she now lurks somewhere in the Salish Sea, plotting revolution while baking for her children.