A poem by Jay Fraser.
My body – hordes and hordes – is
Stitched together from the fabric of
First impressions and connotation;
No form but the ur-form, imposed
By consensus. I reject it, the seams
Of my shape threadbare and frayed.
I spread, like haze and mercury,
Rent apart like a bee-hive of a bear’s
Fancy, leaking, sickly sweet and
Hordes fly from my collapsed silhouette,
Chaos tumbling from beneath the surface
Like bees; like hornets; like wasps –
They search and sting,
Given sweetness and
Jay Fraser is a poet from Lincolnshire in the UK. He draws inspiration from anarchist politics, post-structuralist philosophy, horror movies, and the North Sea. Currently writing on industrial music and necromancy, his work is published or upcoming in Green Ink Poetry, The Tide Rises, Versification, and others. He’s on Twitter @JayFraser1.