abigail williams
they have murdered my mother
oh, her mouth stuck fast
her hands milk white and bound
her brains on the pillow
no dream, i have seen
the black rot in black roots
the grim-faced ancestors, pure
of nothing, plain and delicious
have i seen goody proctor with the devil?
we are friendly after all
he tips his high-crowned hat, pets
my yellow bird
his secrets have i handled often
blackened fingers in the churchyard
and when the bones crack dusty
what names do they sing?
i have made myself manifest
the crowd at gallows hill
all know my name
i dangle slow, weird and feted
the matter is nothing
be it vice or vengeance
a man will have blood to drink
if it take a decade
when the red day breaks
i will laugh
eternally known and cool as butter
i will vanish
on the same ships that brought us here
all my family behind me
and none can see my eyes
a shade in the chill air
susan atkins
italicized language is from the song “Sexy Sadie” by the Beatles
i saw jesus twice
on a black bus in socal
in a death row cell
what have you done?
he told us we’d grow wings
and become fairies
and once i sang like a little bird
what have you done?
i did everything i said i did
took off my clothes
gave my child to the state
what have you done?
woman i have no mercy for you
her blood and my words
a witch’s spell on the door
what have you done?
don’t ask about reasons
it was him and i
all the way alive
what have you done?
what answer would satisfy?
once i was a girl
and then i was a killer
what have you done?
he told us we’d grow wings
but nine bodies weigh you down
my brain rots in my skull
what have you done?
i bounce his songs off the cell wall
once i was a bird
and now i am a killer
made a fool of everyone
sylvia plath
italicized language is from the journals of Sylvia Plath
“i am now flooded with despair, almost hysteria, as if i were smothering. as if a great muscular owl were sitting on my chest, its talons clenching and constricting my heart.”
each morning i wake up
alive alive alive as if
that’s all i can ever be
once he let me bite him, the rose on his cheek
once he watched me, waited, every swallowed word easy
once he handed me a glass, lit my cigarette, saw our fingers to the flame
once he held hands over my eyes, he calmed me like a bird, and bars of light tied me to us
once he showed me the nothing, the void in his head, the poems in the bonfire, the razor in our pocket
when all i ever wanted
was that soft sweet water
quiet and still
and far and empty
Katrina Greco is a poet and educator in Oakland. Her work can be found in Villain Era, Neologism, Rogue Agent, The Champagne Room, and elsewhere. Her first collection Everywhere Green and Scorch Marked is available through White Stag Publishing and she is also the writer of The Final Girl Report Card on Substack. Her favorite revenge story right now is House of the Dragon.
