J Swanson | You May Unravel

You May Unravel. Poems by J Swanson. Number 29 in our Robin Becker Series, selected by Steve Bellin-Oka.

Publication:  September 20, 2023 [100 copies]
33 pages
ISBN 978-1-960693-03-7
$12.00

[ cover design: J Swanson ]

An uninvited guest on Powhatan land, J Swanson primarily spends their personal time playing music, cooking, cleaning, and writing. All of that enfolds with the support of community initiatives centering broader abolitionist + land back movements. Several of their individual poems may be found in @held.zine, IndieBlu (Through the Looking Glass: Reflecting on Madness and Chaos Within), Written Tales, & Anti-heroin chic.

Thousands

They tell me it’s late May and the cherries are
ripening or maybe that’s June or was it
April, the Spring was awfully warm shit is it
already July the cherries have fallen—most
to cement, some to my basket and the lips
of people who have become dear a few
still stuck to the bottom of my shoe
I meant to wash those a while ago
I guess I stopped
being afraid of slipping, the danger never subsided
I just stopped thinking

They tell me this stranger is kind
but when He leaves I ponder
if I left my friends in the wind
And the wind can break
And stillness can shatter
And I think I was moving when He came to
ask me
Ya, I was living for sure I was moving
But shit I’ll be moving when I die
So was I breaking
I was definitely breaking
but I’m going to keep
breaking even when I die
but this time I was living
and I didn’t do my due diligence
so I think I was still
but I could have sworn I was moving;
I’m so tired now what else could I have been doing?
What was it y’all said you needed?

I’m so glad everyone is safe
this time
We’re alive and the wind
just helped us dry our laundry
and shake mulberries
from the parts
too high to reach