Men Explain Things to Me
by Jesse Rice-Evans

after Rebecca Solnit

Men always have something to teach, a finger to lead everyone else somewhere, how we watch for balance, blink and break.

Just let me run towards you, a river of silence thank god for silence, without which I would cut away less, the cure for these duplicate mouth-sounds, the end I can almost taste as you gob and spittle, glinting wish and chrome, escape hatch looming closer.

When I say nothing, I mean I can’t stand it anymore, each singular kiss, copied.

I want the right one to win, to slip between the grate I cast between us, to slip redundancy in after hand over hand, your familiar way, you love an endless loom.

If you say you’d recognize me anywhere, prove it. I am coiled to cut, slick hiss my crowded teeth, something you can’t win, go on I’ll wait

Jesse Rice-Evans is a queer Southern writer and yarrow enthusiast. Read her work in Entropy, Heavy Feather Review, Reality Hands, and others. She’s a Ph.D. candidate at the CUNY Graduate Center in Rhetoric & Composition and she teaches writing in New York.

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About barkingsycamores 183 Articles
Barking Sycamores is a literary journal entirely edited and operated by queer neurodivergent people of color. We publish poetry, artwork, short fiction (beginning with Issue 3), creative nonfiction (beginning with Issue 8), and hybrid genre work (beginning with Issue 9) by emerging and established neurodivergent writers as well as essays on neurodiversity and literature and book reviews (beginning with Issue 10).

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