Patron Saint of my New World Order

by Kendra Ferguson

 

part I

 

talking with my historian is

throwing up at the art museum

descending a staircase nude

emerging from a well

to shame mankind

an earthly garden of delights

i’ve never carved anything

from marble or a rougher stone

my sense of permanence

was learned from bad tattoos

armenian funerals and

chipped front teeth

we need a new lesson

be Explicit! Expand!

Explode.

be the bulk section of the grocery store

a million little pieces of whatever

ancient grain is fashionable

those grains know

what permanence feels like

they have been around

longer than we have

null

KENDRA OAKES FERGUSON

Kendra is a poet from Portland, Oregon. Previously published in Epigraph Magazine, Ghost City Review, and Alien Mouth, she currently is the curator of WORD SALAD, a live critique series, and an MA candidate in Book Publishing. She can often be found making bad jokes and going on long walks on anything but the beach, or on Instagram @internetkendra.