for the revolution (poem)



for the revolution


we inherit nothing
but ashes & empty bones

smog envelops this city
& i am here searching
for remains beneath the grass
once out of winter-dead
slumber

when i walk i feel
the curve of the earth
waiting

for the end of the world
this is a beginning

my hands are clenched

*

we like to think
there is no darkness,
but there is darkness
when i was young
i was scared of this
as it crawled through
the curtains suffocating
cutting like a knife
against bare skin
as sharp as glass

*

this is not a war
i call my own
i walk along the edges
of lines, the polluted 
sea drowns the land

we are on opposing ideals
yet we all walk on the earth's
fractured surface carrying scars
& loss

& when I am
gasping for breath
in my own darkness -
you will not notice


Joanne Fisher


I was going through some old magazines in one of my bookshelves and found a poem of mine I had forgotten about. I must have written this when I was around 21 I think. My younger self didn’t know how to properly edit, so I ended up reworking parts of it. I kept the title, though I think it’s my attempt at being enigmatic… It strikes me as a precursor to my poem Drought Rhythms.

This poem first appeared in Onion, no.2

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Šī¸2022 Joanne Fisher

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