Gabriel Noel

THE BODY AS A TOOL FOR VIOLENCE 

each morning I wake up
& wonder which part of 
my body has become a
land mine.
 
yesterday, my mouth.
the taste of ash coated
my tongue, eating holes
through each taste bud
 
my eyes, still closed 
as the news plays tragedy
on the television, shake 
seizure-like inside of me
 
today, my uterus.
no longer shedding or
bleeding or bloating but
still fertile enough to
 
turn into a weapon. 
womb run red over the steps 
of capitol hill & if I die 
use my body as riot gear.
 
tomorrow, my blood.
testosterone coated & no
good in their blood banks.
I’m tattooing the names
 
of senators & congressmen
onto my veins, make them
know my wrath is deeper 
than deep.
 
the next day, my eyes.
spooned out; these sadists
would harvest me all 
if it was profitable.
 
do you know the definition
of pain is different
for each body part?
they tell you a perfect 10
 
is childbirth, but what if
the wound hurts from 
the inside? what if the way
our bodies open 
 
is painful & angry & red?
in the future, my throat.
still screaming, raw &
hungry…violent.