1 poem
by Faye Chevalier
Faye Chevalier is a Philadelphia-based poet and essayist. She is the author of the chapbook future.txt (Empty Set Press 2018) and her work has been featured in The Wanderer, Peach Mag, Witch Craft Magazine, the tiny, and elsewhere. Some of her awards and recognitions include being the first poet ever to have work published in a cyberpunk tabletop rpg podcast (Neoscum 2018) and a Pushcart nomination. Find her on Twitter where she cries about cyborgs, vampires, and having a body at @bratcore.
This poem was longlisted for the 2019 Peach Gold in Poetry with guest judge Dorothea Lasky.
the moon won't save you
after "Psychotherapy" by sam sax
“the cozy afterglow of a séance gone terribly
wrong”-ness of a body,
the peeling of my skin as a solid figurine
; i write a poem,
call it “there is literally no difference between
my body & tinder[dot]com,”
have the character of care
bespeak a withering, a molding
of crass kisses, & favored hurt to help
myself heal,
& yet again i fail to capture-capture
desire syllabically;
such a travesty, proxy-bespeaking in
even sets;
that one shade of “symmetry will not save
me
” that so belights you
when you refuse to meet my
gaze-or-look tho
“i refuse my curation too
, so...” & “pleasure will not save
me” are probs my favorite sorts of
bloods to have ; so live too dark now, all
fake noise now,
the moon will not
save me the rain will not
save me, save
a thin shill of skin-silt,
for what i lock up or
down does not live long enough to
be the prophetic thin thing
Sax holds as worth
praising, worth
phrasing still