A Space for Women of the World
Liquid to solid to gas. Our stories are many places
in many forms. All this land is Indian land. There is not
discovery, but intrusion. Pebble of mountain origin.
Our mental health is water combusted in a machine. The
gears are electricity, matter churning itself. We lovers
cloak each other in our trauma. It’s the reverse of cell
That failure to protect is that failure to be successful in
modes not universal. The ladders in our cells, codecs as
precise as knotted hair. We can’t recall the atom of us. If it
was you or I who shaped this nucleus.
Those kids were wild. Up and down the street, while
mother was a shut in, caged home. Obsessed with the idea
of someone else, while those kids obsessed for their
mother. Those kids with those wild atoms. Those kids of
stoned origin. Whose water splits them?
Flat affect parenting, flat affect children. Learn needs will
not be met from distress. Stones smoothed by element.
Trevino L. Brings Plenty is a poet and musician who lives, works, and writes in Portland, OR. His day job is a social worker at a local Native American community center. Trevino is an enrolled member of the Cheyenne River Sioux Tribe, South Dakota, USA.