Queen of Collapse
Queen of disappearing, the girl in me gone
Queen of sweet milk, blisters, sweat
Queen as the night opens its mouth and cries
The dreamthroat, blackthroat, barbaric guest
Queen seized by wide white jaws
My subjects all turn cannibal, animal, maul
Their love gigantic, their never-ending need
Queen claimed by the smallest fists
Queen of the body count, fingers, shadows, toes
Warped by war and sleeplessness, we are a thousand years old
Queen of the corpse I invite inside for a glass of rain
The rain coming down like gravel over our heads
My mother’s face ripples across my face, across my child’s face
Queen of collapse, our hunger everlasting
Hadara Bar-Nadav is author of The New Nudity (Saturnalia Books, 2017); Lullaby(with Exit Sign) , awarded the Saturnalia Books Poetry Prize (Saturnalia Books, 2013); The Frame Called Ruin, Runner Up for the Green Rose Prize (New Issues, 2012); and A Glass of Milk to Kiss Goodnight, awarded the Margie Book Prize (Margie/Intuit House, 2007). Her chapbook Fountain and Furnace (Tupelo Press, 2015) was awarded the Sunken Garden Poetry Prize. A National Endowment for the Arts fellow, she is currently a Professor of English at the University of Missouri-Kansas City.