SARAH SGRO

from WITHOUT THEM I AM STILL A MOTHER






[Hello from the future]



Is there something inherently queer about pregnancy itself, insofar as it profoundly alters ones normal state, & occasionally a radical intimacy with& radical alienation fromones body? [1]


({})

Sexuality is an issue of orientation, the way our bodies extend into space.

Bodies point to objects. Objects point back.

Objects within reach are not haphazard.

Body-object “coinciding” makes encounter.

To experience a queer phenomenology is to tend towards the unreachable, to transcend bodily “horizons.” [2]

I train my body to become an object.

I rid my life of useless objects.

 

({})

The future is an issue of orientation, how “now” & “when” coincide.

To experience a queer future is to tend towards the unreachable & survive.

The future relegates familiar objects to the background.

The future transcends bodily horizons.

The future is haphazard.

The future points back.

 

 

 

 

 

Hello from the future we have a voice. Hello from your child who is no object. You imagine holding me the way you’ve hated being held; I must suckle at your tit or I cannot live. It is easy to give into dogma. The other does not always taint the self. Often the self taints the self like this poet & this poem. Often the self taints the child. Mobius strip. [3] You imagine me a clone. You imagine unlike all the others I will stay. I will say I was born with strange myths in my body. I opened my eyes & saw a yellow moon. The word cock flitted in my throat. How could I have known this vulgar word? You will teach me to appreciate every gift that I am given; therefore, I appreciate these myths. I listen but I’ll never be a clone. I emerged alone. I emerged with no extra skin. When I left your body it was like I never knew your body. My lungs acclimated quickly to the flood of air. When I sleep I don’t imagine I am in a womb. If I do it is a womb from diagrams I’ve studied, for how could I remember the particular glow of your womb? Perhaps you have imagined that by making me you have built a room. Please do not resent the necessity of doors. My legs swing open like a strange myth in my body.

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is a mother poem ({})

This is a melancholic fucking poem ({})

This poem has no opening ({})

This poem fell & split its womb ({})

It’s nobody’s responsibility to touch this poem ({})

Often passionate relationships are toxic like this poet & this poem ({})

This poem named her daughter Space ({})

This daughter lives inside this poem ({})

This is a populated room ({})

 

 

 

 

To remember is to reproduce ({})

 

 

 

 

 

 

I want to have my child & eat her too ({})

 















[1] From Maggie Nelson’s book The Argonauts.

[2] Sara Ahmed posits these ideas in her book Queer Phenomenology.

[3] The image of a “mobius strip” is used to describe a phenomenon of reciprocity in Maggie Nelson’s book The Argonauts.






SARAH SGRO lives in Oxford, Mississippi. Currently, she serves as Poetry Editor for the Yalobusha Review, co-hosts the Broken English Reading Series, and reads poetry submissions for Muzzle. She is from New York and previously worked as an editorial assistant for Guernica. Her poetry appears in Tagvverk, Muzzle, TYPO, glitterMOB, Horse Less Review, Deluge, and other journals. Her website is sarah-sgro.com