{"product_id":"trickster-feminism-isbn-9780143132363","title":"Trickster Feminism","description":"\u003cb\u003eNew from celebrated poet and performer Anne Waldman - an edgy, visionary collection that meditates on gender, existence, passion and activism\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMythopoetics, shape shifting, quantum entanglement, Anthropocene blues, litany and chance operation play inside the field of these intertwined poems, which coalesced out of months of protests with some texts penned in the streets. Anne Waldman looks to the imagination of mercurial possibility, to the spirits of the doorway and of crossroads, and to language that jolts the status quo of how one troubles gender and outwits patriarchy.  She summons Tarot's Force Arcana, the passion of the suffragettes, and various messengers and heroines of historical, hermetic, and heretical stance, creating an intersectionality of lived experience:  class, sexuality, race, politics all enter the din. These are experiments of survival.\u003cb\u003ePraise for \u003ci\u003eTrickster Feminsim:\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“The pervading mood in \u003ci\u003eTrickster Feminism \u003c\/i\u003eis of a piece with our national mood: gloom-filled, sorrowing, yet occasionally threaded with hope . . . Reading Waldman is like being in the world today.” \u003cb\u003e—Daisy Fried, \u003ci\u003eThe New York Times Book Review \u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  “Waldman calls upon multiple resources – spirits, suffragettes, and heroines alike – to help defeat the trickster who disempowers women through capitalism and other tools . . . Waldman presents a complicated panorama of places and events – including resistance after the 2016 U.S. presidential election – in these accomplished, intertwined pieces.” \u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Washington Post\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Very apropos and very prescient . . . what’s reeling and alive is the freshness of topicality, personal and public, in this collection:  ICE and immigration, the DOJ’s current personnel, the Women’s March, Oligarchism and global money laundering, technocracy, ‘Anthropocene weather complexities, nuclear threats, and so on.” \u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Brooklyn Rail\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Reads like a spellbook — a mix of prose, verse, illustration and photography, woven together like the instructions to a ritual.  But the incantatory poetry of \u003ci\u003eTrickster Feminism\u003c\/i\u003e is practical magic, Waldman’s way of meditating on — and taking action against — what she says are increasingly difficult times.” \u003cb\u003e—PBS.org\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “Waldman’s poems are layered, enchanting, and challenging, but if you’re willing to go along for the ride, their movements will unsettle your thinking on gender, feminism, and the political powers at large in the United States today.” \u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eTricycle Magazine\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “Waldman searches folklore and legends for wily women overlooked as members of the trickster canon and claims trickster’s power for the present resistance.  In the process, she imagines a new mythology to serve as the model for an uncertain future feminism.” \u003cb\u003e—PoetryFoundation.org\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003ci\u003eTrickster Feminism\u003c\/i\u003e arrives in the nick of time as a lightning strike of wisdom that illuminates this moment in history. Anne Waldman's voice is epic, mythic and above all, wild. She gives us direct courage from the force of her great heart. Her words: sacred text.” —\u003cb\u003eTerry Tempest Williams\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003ci\u003eTrickster Feminism\u003c\/i\u003e spins wily counter-logics and connection in lyrics and chants supple enough to face pervasive death--of friends, the body count in our century's nameless global war, and even the planet's epochal decease. Waldman's poems enact insubordination, a kind of pinwheel parataxis, to offer a necessary second sight. We are summoned to peer past appearances, past the sense of square one beginnings and ineluctable dead ends. Instead, we are invited to raise our gaze afresh and to rise to our feet.” —\u003cb\u003eErica Hunt\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Wit, real teaching and speed all meet up here. Words fall out as the pace quickens, it’s like a clown car bumping into itself, then suddenly the poet takes charge, and backs us right into a confetti of deceptively wacky oracular pronouncements. This is such a read. \u003ci\u003eTrickster Feminism\u003c\/i\u003e is an awesomely serious book, Anne Waldman’s poetry being nothing but the eye and sound of prophecy itself.” —\u003cb\u003eEileen Myles\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A rich exploration of how we can escape the straightjacket of gender norms and assumptions . . . [Waldman’s] language is by turns sensual and lush, pointed and playful.” —\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eLion’s Roar\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Anne Waldman's passionate, quick-witted poetry doesn't back down or away from anything, outer or inner, big or small, and confronts an exceptionally wide range of experience and feeling.  Playful, ingenious, edgy, vital in its feminism and in its humanity, \u003ci\u003eTrickster Feminism\u003c\/i\u003e is a gathering (to paraphrase Frank O'Hara) of political meditations in a time of emergency.  One comes away from her poetry stimulated and—rarest of all these days—hopeful.”  —\u003cb\u003eCharles North\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Caught in the uncanny glint of the trickster gaze, this book contains a masterful, instructive set of texts. Easily a classic on par with Diane Di Prima’s \u003ci\u003eRevolutionary Letters\u003c\/i\u003e. There is a torn and highly addictive edge to its line, a restless counterpoint that feels in rhythm with our current struggle.” —\u003cb\u003eCedar Sigo\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“An essential poet of our time, Anne Waldman hears the centuries rousted from their sleep in \u003ci\u003eTrickster Feminism\u003c\/i\u003e.  She sees how the cosmic plight can be turned around in the concealed fragility of late capitalism, and she never fears standing inside the entanglements.” \u003cb\u003e—CAConrad\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Acclaimed poet Waldman plumbs the variations and nuances of female subjectivity and paths to liberation through the performance of words and rituals. . . . the subtext is a rich and stirring commentary on feminine empowerment.” \u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003ePublisher's Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003eAnne Waldman is a revered poet, performer, professor, editor and cultural activist.  She is the author of more than forty-five books, including \u003ci\u003eGossamurmur, Manatee\/Humanity, Structure of the World Compared to a Bubble\u003c\/i\u003e, and the feminist epic \u003ci\u003eThe Iovis Trilogy\u003c\/i\u003e, which won the 2012 PEN Center USA Award for poetry. The recipient of the Poetry Society of America's Shelley Memorial Award, a Guggenheim Fellowship, and the Before Columbus Foundation's Lifetime Achievement Award, Waldman makes her home in New York City and in Boulder Colorado, where she is a Distinguished Professor of Writing and Poetics and Artistic Director of the Summer Writing Program at Naropa University.trick o’ death\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhen you are sitting\u003cbr\u003ewith the corpse of your friend\u003cbr\u003ethis is what to do\u003cbr\u003ewhen what do you do\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eif you are strong\u003cbr\u003emake a binding of your mind\u003cbr\u003esurface the body\u003cbr\u003ebreathe in quick breaths\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehuff! huff!\u003cbr\u003ethis is what to do\u003cbr\u003elibation in small drops\u003cbr\u003eon heart center\u003cbr\u003ecoins of ancient India on eyes\u003cbr\u003efeathers and serpentine\u003cbr\u003eremembrance\u003cbr\u003eand open words like talismans\u003cbr\u003ethat shake the cosmos\u003cbr\u003eas in opening a crypt\u003cbr\u003easleep too long\u003cbr\u003efor death is awakening\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eand the alive, like you, ahunted\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003elike “art” like “phantasm”\u003cbr\u003ethey will guide you\u003cbr\u003earound the heart\u003cbr\u003ecircle around heart’s cold\u003cbr\u003ewith drops of amrita\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eleave them there\u003cbr\u003eof candle, frugal\u003cbr\u003eor flame\u003cbr\u003ecan she see?\u003cbr\u003eshe can still hear they\u003cbr\u003esay hearing is last to go\u003cbr\u003emore of this is what to do\u003cbr\u003eimages of all you loved\u003cbr\u003eto go and lastly\u003cbr\u003eenterprise to repeat\u003cbr\u003eacts of love, and in going\u003cbr\u003epound heart once more\u003cbr\u003edear suffragette\u003cbr\u003esummon here\u003cbr\u003eto outlast the misogynist\u003cbr\u003eother curative wisdom\u003cbr\u003ewhat is our speed\u003cbr\u003eto know from branches of laurel\u003cbr\u003etrick o’ death a strategy\u003cbr\u003ethis is what to do\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebe tactful\u003cbr\u003ethe dead are shy\u003cbr\u003ego inside them\u003cbr\u003evisit their nooks \u0026amp; crannies\u003cbr\u003evisualize their ash \u0026amp; impermanence\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethen how to start a spirit fire\u003cbr\u003eplay some music with your hands\u003cbr\u003esing masculine song of the mourning dove\u003cbr\u003eyou are alive in cosmetic time\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eher death chamber cooler now\u003cbr\u003estretched on the plinth\u003cbr\u003eher cheek fading\u003cbr\u003eyou can whisper: see the syrinx,\u003cbr\u003elaurel, a tuft of reeds offered\u003cbr\u003ereeds like to hold you close\u003cbr\u003eone hundred eyes see from inside you\u003cbr\u003eno false twitch\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ecould be nothing\u003cbr\u003egoing on\u003cbr\u003ebut seeing like this\u003cbr\u003ea cut, a scar the beautiful slit\u003cbr\u003eof feminine aperture\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand can laugh at trick o’ death\u003cbr\u003ethat’s what you say to\u003cbr\u003ea fabulous corpse\u003cbr\u003eungendered now\u003cbr\u003etrick o’ death\u003cbr\u003egrowing younger by\u003cbr\u003estuttered moment:\u003cbr\u003ehave no fear\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eshe’s getting out of this\u003cbr\u003einto another maelstrom\u003cbr\u003eor just nothing, no breathing\u003cbr\u003estreets are quieter\u003cbr\u003eworld violence\u003cbr\u003efeels less structural\u003cbr\u003elies as secrets seem truer now\u003cbr\u003eyou nab them\u003cbr\u003ethe interlocutors\u003cbr\u003eblue calcite\u003cbr\u003emost prominent heirloom\u003cbr\u003ein color, texture\u003cbr\u003eimagination of mercurial\u003cbr\u003etwilight words to utter\u003cbr\u003ein the doorway\u003cbr\u003ethe bottom of the mind\u003cbr\u003epaved\u003cbr\u003esmart luck\u003cbr\u003ewith crossroads\u003cbr\u003eencryption, generation\u003cbr\u003eto know you, spider\u003cbr\u003eof crypt\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhat does the trickster say\u003cbr\u003ekinetic or\u003cbr\u003eclown\u003cbr\u003eor\u003cbr\u003ehiding so as in retreat\u003cbr\u003ehow many come-ons in one lifetime\u003cbr\u003eyou will stand in for her beauty\u003cbr\u003efend off patriarchal poetry\u003cbr\u003eand your own struggle\u003cbr\u003ein cultural anachronism\u003cbr\u003ebombing unilaterally\u003cbr\u003enothing about\u003cbr\u003esocially constituted\u003cbr\u003ewitch trials\u003cbr\u003ewomen restrain or manipulate desire\u003cbr\u003eface understood it must vocalize\u003cbr\u003ea kiss\u003cbr\u003eworking a voice\u003cbr\u003e(dead lady of the lake)\u003cbr\u003eopposed to state apparatus\u003cbr\u003emy sword! my sword!\u003cbr\u003emy mirror! my mirror!\u003cbr\u003ecome, sirrah, come\u003cbr\u003ehelp your mistress sleep\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebehind the dull glass\u003cbr\u003ewhat face\u003cbr\u003epleasure gleam\u003cbr\u003eherself\u003cbr\u003ein status quo\u003cbr\u003emottled\u003cbr\u003eragged coyote\u003cbr\u003eof display\u003cbr\u003eacculturation text\u003cbr\u003erite’s viability\u003cbr\u003ebleeds\u003cbr\u003enaked return?\u003cbr\u003ecode this\u003cbr\u003eanatomical\u003cbr\u003e“mothers”\u003cbr\u003edressing up like\u003cbr\u003ea prince to love you\u003cbr\u003eform is arbitrary\u003cbr\u003eruins hard\u003cbr\u003eto\u003cbr\u003eimagine\u003cbr\u003ewhat the country wants\u003cbr\u003eneedles\u003cbr\u003eappropriate to\u003cbr\u003eneed\u003cbr\u003e“the people\u003cbr\u003ewant it”\u003cbr\u003elook of the west\u003cbr\u003emysterious logos\u003cbr\u003erock on the road\u003cbr\u003ethe Ghent Altarpiece\u003cbr\u003eand its tribulation\u003cbr\u003eexemplified in the material\u003cbr\u003eworship they nibbled\u003cbr\u003emonsters under cartel\u003cbr\u003ebroken-down colonial\u003cbr\u003epower\u003cbr\u003eit issues forthher disordered mouth\u003cbr\u003eerotic wish\u003cbr\u003eor queer?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI believe in crucible logic\u003cbr\u003eharassment \u0026amp; insubordination\u003cbr\u003ebreaking through\u003cbr\u003eno regulation\u003cbr\u003ebut performance\u003cbr\u003ewhat is the grammar drag,\u003cbr\u003ehow exquisite demon feminine\u003cbr\u003enot be victim\u003cbr\u003ea vow, a queen\u003cbr\u003ewill not be plaything\u003cbr\u003eyou, sister, reckoning\u003cbr\u003ea large-scale genome algorithm\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003etaking you down\u003cbr\u003emaelstrom\u003cbr\u003eof own mind\u003cbr\u003eit pulls it spins you, gender\u003cbr\u003einto fragmented realities\u003cbr\u003eof future past \u0026amp; present\u003cbr\u003ea span is epic is how\u003cbr\u003eevery life-form is turbulent\u003cbr\u003ewhere you are seen in\u003cbr\u003ea series of guises\u003cbr\u003eand some go exhaust\u003cbr\u003ethe void, a full place\u003cbr\u003eand a sensory gate still opens\u003cbr\u003ewhat wanted to believe\u003cbr\u003ewent there in a dream\u003cbr\u003eof sleight of hand\u003cbr\u003eshark of all cards\u003cbr\u003egiving out\u003cbr\u003ethe tactile organs\u003cbr\u003ekinesthesia like handshake\u003cbr\u003eeidetic tesserae\u003cbr\u003ebargained my kidney,\u003cbr\u003emy spleen, my\u003cbr\u003etemporal lobe\u003cbr\u003eeyes in all heads\u003cbr\u003etoo many impostors\u003cbr\u003ehacker in a past life?\u003cbr\u003ehow’s the glitzy facade?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003esaying, your woman’s hand has\u003cbr\u003ea detour\u003cbr\u003eif you just open this door\u003cbr\u003eghost was saying\u003cbr\u003eyour woman’s bed has a detour\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eis true? I wonder\u003cbr\u003ein red\u003cbr\u003eshe wears the same scarf I do\u003cbr\u003eher hair is shorn,\u003cbr\u003etonsured\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethis is and\u003cbr\u003ethis is and this is\u003cbr\u003ethe way it looks\u003cbr\u003eand this is the way it is\u003cbr\u003eand this is the way she looks and\u003cbr\u003ethis is the way she is\u003cbr\u003ethis is the nimbus she is\u003cbr\u003eand this is her rebus\u003cbr\u003ethis is the category and\u003cbr\u003ethis is a song of her restitution\u003cbr\u003ethis is the calyx and this is the individual\u003cbr\u003ethis is the etiquette and this is the lung\u003cbr\u003ethis is the shadow \u0026amp; abacus of hovering\u003cbr\u003ea trace to count on\u003cbr\u003ewho will bear the weight of this tissue\u003cbr\u003ethis issue, hair \u0026amp; nails of the yogini\u003cbr\u003ethis is the clinical this is the invasion\u003cbr\u003ethis is the odds and these are the statistics\u003cbr\u003ewhatever you meet unexpectedly on the path\u003cbr\u003eembrace,\u003cbr\u003ecross purposes whenever you can\u003cbr\u003eexpand the road\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003elonger limb that long extends\u003cbr\u003eand this is the longer lung that extends\u003cbr\u003elonger speech, she was always vocally\u003cbr\u003ethe longest of all\u003cbr\u003econcatenation\u003cbr\u003emouthing off the longest syllable\u003cbr\u003eask and whatever you meet\u003cbr\u003eand your own death, asking\u003cbr\u003ethis is and this is a longing\u003cbr\u003ethis is Ceres summoning Dame Hunger\u003cbr\u003ethis is Ethiopian Andromeda\u003cbr\u003eor Lady Midnight’s \u003ci\u003eSongs of the Four Seasons\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethis is tranced attention\u003cbr\u003ethis is Hermaphroditus\u003cbr\u003ethis is a shouter, an Engine-Woman\u003cbr\u003ebecome a midnight star, Callisto\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhen you are in your trouble\u003cbr\u003eand turn from death\u003cbr\u003ethis is what to do\u003cbr\u003efind the meeting place:\u003cbr\u003eintersectionality\u003cbr\u003eunder stars\u003cbr\u003eway to gnosis\u003cbr\u003esaying this is the place\u003cbr\u003ethis is indeed the place\u003cbr\u003ewith many layers\u003cbr\u003elie down here\u003cbr\u003ewhere one thrives in parity\u003cbr\u003ewith thieves and lovers\u003cbr\u003ewhere one can fuck without retribution\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e(meet me at the edge of town)\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003ea road out there\u003cbr\u003eanswer to curiosity\u003cbr\u003edon’t you get it?\u003cbr\u003ederivative mimicry\u003cbr\u003eisn’t going to reflect world’s\u003cbr\u003emadness like she can\u003cbr\u003eout of doors mimicking love or death\u003cbr\u003ejunction where you can go either way\u003cbr\u003eand feminism is old mistress to strange\u003cbr\u003etiers of it to make you think\u003cbr\u003eon death\u003cbr\u003ehow cold it is out on the road\u003cbr\u003emaking love like this\u003cbr\u003ewith the stars conspiratorial, hey!\u003cbr\u003ethey are your neighbors\u003cbr\u003eslivers of twinkling form\u003cbr\u003ein and out of many universes\u003cbr\u003eexisting in “probability space”\u003cbr\u003eice rustles, shimmers above\u003cbr\u003eclouds and you are probable too\u003cbr\u003ewhat shape, body?\u003cbr\u003ewith what do you inspire devotion?\u003cbr\u003ehow do you construct existence?\u003cbr\u003eyour pioneer apparatuses\u003cbr\u003eyour added-on\u003cbr\u003eidentity, a voice hits all the\u003cbr\u003eregisters\u003cbr\u003eyour conglomerations\u003cbr\u003ewith your timidity\u003cbr\u003ewith your power\u003cbr\u003eyour willingness to die\u003cbr\u003eand cairns where we’ll leave\u003cbr\u003emarkers for you\u003cbr\u003efind the way\u003cbr\u003eto love that drives you?\u003cbr\u003eloosened aside a bower\u003cbr\u003edown the road\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003elittle tones piling up to make a melody of\u003cbr\u003ea way your various parts organize to\u003cbr\u003ebe here in fiction\u003cbr\u003estones can be struck\u003cbr\u003ewill one still sit astride\u003cbr\u003ehis thigh\u003cbr\u003eor it hasn’t started having onto you yet\u003cbr\u003eheaving, hanging\u003cbr\u003ebright girl\u003cbr\u003edon’t you get it\u003cbr\u003ehow they fuss you over\u003cbr\u003ewith love of all things mental\u003cbr\u003emeant to be in your care\u003cbr\u003einnermost being\u003cbr\u003einsides of things, as poet feels\u003cbr\u003einner bark from a ghost tree\u003cbr\u003easpiration, and go down\u003cbr\u003eand some still resting on laurels of survived\u003cbr\u003edominance look again\u003cbr\u003ea factotum\u003cbr\u003ea dead book perhaps\u003cbr\u003edrive my sex into its covers\u003cbr\u003edriven by lust outside\u003cbr\u003efear that money drives\u003cbr\u003ethe world down under\u003cbr\u003eto shut all feeling of existence out\u003cbr\u003egreat mind\u003cbr\u003ewill I be bought by\u003cbr\u003elast-ditch patriarchy\u003cbr\u003ehow weakens\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003emaybe passed by here\u003cbr\u003eand bowed and made offering\u003cbr\u003eto corpse of rascals\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003estones speak of hardship\u003cbr\u003ewhere you boil them for food\u003cbr\u003efor their mineral ink magic\u003cbr\u003escribe is the biologist\u003cbr\u003enew phase coming\u003cbr\u003eof tones made visible\u003cbr\u003eodd patches of kin\u003cbr\u003escribe is tentacular\u003cbr\u003ememes of evolving feminism\u003cbr\u003eand the means of it\u003cbr\u003espeak your heroes, mash them\u003cbr\u003emixed with fervor of protists\u003cbr\u003ehow assiduously seeking truth\u003cbr\u003ethis is what to do\u003cbr\u003eas in ways or means\u003cbr\u003eand a committee meets to\u003cbr\u003emake sure\u003cbr\u003ea con won’t push over you\u003cbr\u003eforce goods that enhance\u003cbr\u003emisty feminine way of life\u003cbr\u003ehow to sell it? undiluted\u003cbr\u003edisempower the girl\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eget down, morphing sister\u003cbr\u003eget down\u003cbr\u003ewhat are your ploys\u003cbr\u003estacking up\u003cbr\u003ecapitalist wiles\u003cbr\u003emay they be dashed\u003cbr\u003elauded over aroma\u003cbr\u003escents of perfumed doom\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eavaunt idiots of compassion\u003cbr\u003eand the titular rape mode of quest \u0026amp; scheme\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhat do we see? a weeping\u003cbr\u003eCapitalocene\u003cbr\u003ea weeping many centuries wide\u003cbr\u003evaster submersible system\u003cbr\u003eit weeps\u003cbr\u003eand weeps crocodile tears\u003cbr\u003ea stall of state\u003cbr\u003ethe Mao of\u003cbr\u003ehurt\u003cbr\u003ethe \u003ci\u003eheil\u003c\/i\u003e for hell\u003cbr\u003ethe muss of the hurt\u003cbr\u003echurl\u003cbr\u003ea Franco murders\u003cbr\u003ea pol a pot a Papa Doc\u003cbr\u003esomo, pero pino Assad\u003cbr\u003eof the hurt\u003cbr\u003ecapital hurts\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003edespots go down\u003cbr\u003eon bite of diction\u003cbr\u003e\u0026amp; silence of sycophants\u003cbr\u003ecomplicit in their slimy way\u003cbr\u003eattend\u003cbr\u003ewon’t bend hearts\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto abused\u003cbr\u003emoans of extinction\u003cbr\u003etrauma, trauma\u003cbr\u003eto this poetry now\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eget over right now\u003cbr\u003eparadox of fear\u003cbr\u003eineptitude\u003cbr\u003emuscle up\u003cbr\u003efind yourself in boundary\u003cbr\u003ea name which means\u003cbr\u003e“I have tricked you”\u003cbr\u003ewoman up\u003cbr\u003eyour paradox of betrayal\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efalse?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003edidn’t steal the poems,\u003cbr\u003eam I not their keeper?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewant to crash gates of\u003cbr\u003ecity, life gives\u003cbr\u003eambiguity \u0026amp; deceit to\u003cbr\u003eold fem con to make you pay\u003cbr\u003eall this curvaceous beauty\u003cbr\u003eand tough sisterhood\u003cbr\u003etake heart my lovely\u003cbr\u003emeet me on the other edge of town\u003cbr\u003e(one for lovers\u003cbr\u003ethis one for assassins)\u003cbr\u003edagger glints in moonlight\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehow many femmes can you hold\u003cbr\u003ein dusk time\u003cbr\u003ewhen it’s too late\u003cbr\u003ethe friend the enemy\u003cbr\u003ehag in retribution\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehow many years, an icy lore\u003cbr\u003eremote that they do this to any bodies\u003cbr\u003eyou know they do this to women\u003cbr\u003eon their rounds\u003cbr\u003eand to bodies sensitive as women’s\u003cbr\u003ethe strange, displaced the transposed the\u003cbr\u003efully realized however declaring self\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eexpression to move,\u003cbr\u003echiasmatic,\u003cbr\u003eheaven \u0026amp; earth\u003cbr\u003eresumes holy measures\u003cbr\u003eand it is a \u003ci\u003espiritus praxis\u003c\/i\u003e I sing\u003cbr\u003eO lordy lordy\u003cbr\u003eto open your own tomb\u003cbr\u003ethen you’re fearless\u003cbr\u003ewhen you are both tomb\u003cbr\u003eand prescient womb\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ego down, matrix\u003cbr\u003edown, sepulcher of women\u003cbr\u003estealing your secrets\u003cbr\u003eand these are the secrets I steal\u003cbr\u003einnermost beings\u003cbr\u003ea mesh of silicon \u0026amp; copper\u003cbr\u003eall the pulchritude in the world\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethey’ll beat it, meme of us: metataxis\u003cbr\u003ethe oligarch is in charge\u003cbr\u003eis at it metabolically and has to go\u003cbr\u003ewe make him go\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003egrasses will hide and rejoice\u003cbr\u003ewe make him go\u003cbr\u003eplease learn this before you leave the earth\u003cbr\u003erout plights to bury the wild girl\u003cbr\u003ewomen in abstraction thinning\u003cbr\u003efacedown ones\u003cbr\u003ethey do rise\u003cbr\u003ein disguise of agenda\u003cbr\u003ewhat is the ploy?\u003cbr\u003ea strange miasma. . . .\u003cbr\u003ecatch him\u003cbr\u003emake him go\u003cbr\u003efrom our body of light\u003cbr\u003ethough we be trickster shadow\u003cbr\u003ea scented elixir\u003cbr\u003edrank the\u003cbr\u003ewhat is it?\u003cbr\u003ewordless amrita?\u003cbr\u003ewithout word\u003cbr\u003ecrossroads will make you stand tall\u003cbr\u003ein your architecture of chance\u003cbr\u003e“down the rabbit hole”\u003cbr\u003eyou rise out the other side\u003cbr\u003eyou survive\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efeminism is your ploy,\u003cbr\u003eofttimes retired\u003cbr\u003ecome out now\u003cbr\u003enot disenfranchised\u003cbr\u003enor abandoned\u003cbr\u003enay obsolete\u003cbr\u003ehow many you go con\u003cbr\u003ebruited lab death of feminism?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhen you sit with\u003cbr\u003ethe corpse of your world\u003cbr\u003elet it shut its corpse\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003erabbit is in the moon\u003cbr\u003eillusion’s illusions strumming on\u003cbr\u003ebeing around voice\u003cbr\u003ejumping thrice over coyote\u003cbr\u003etrick o’ death\u003cbr\u003etake down the big horrible men\u003cbr\u003edestroy them in their icy sleeves\u003cbr\u003ecuff them\u003cbr\u003enot you brethren but impostors\u003cbr\u003eand their minions\u003cbr\u003ewho cater and mew and shuffle\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ejust so you know what stage femme\u003cbr\u003eis on evolving\u003cbr\u003eits fluid body\u003cbr\u003eits principle\u003cbr\u003ethe crossroads can’t nail you down\u003cbr\u003eto ignorance\u003cbr\u003ebut it’s a promise\u003cbr\u003emeets you there\u003cbr\u003especulating\u003cbr\u003ewith choice \u0026amp; impetus\u003cbr\u003ewhich way the wind blows\u003cbr\u003eavenge all deaths of hers\u003cbr\u003epoet-thief\u003cbr\u003edrive the stake in","brand":"Penguin Books","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46300695134437,"sku":"NP9780143132363","price":24.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780143132363.jpg?v=1767742956","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/trickster-feminism-isbn-9780143132363","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}