turn around BRXGHT XYXSPlaylist by Rosebud Ben-Oni
In turn around BRXGHT XYXS, Rosebud Ben-Oni opens by summoning Matarose—her alter-ego “muse on roller skates”—a wildly original voice that channels K-pop, hip hop, and the intersectional mestiza soul of the entire borough of Queens to create a sound-driven howling lyric paean—an ecstatic queer broken love-song that’s equal parts Bonnie Tyler and bible, Prince and prayer, and 100% pure desire. Ben-Oni’s poems conjure fierce feminist magic to create a simultaneous ode and lament of a book that reminds us we are the sum of all the parts of our selves: our roots and contradictory loves, all the things we’re born into and out of, the corporeal experiences we only sometimes choose—and she brings it all home with power, humor, grace, and lines like this: “This is my blood and this / my body this time / you won’t betray me / I am your kingdom come.” —Erika Meitner
On the far side we're kicking up tundra out of tú& no one & no one
on earth can see though they swear by (-we) though do not sing to
moonwomen, sickle-hipped & shape
-shifting & very well maybe & most certainly do their wishes bounce & chase after & chew
our moondust when we are carousing with stellar winds & moon- gust
Oh moon we're over the you about youDear moon do you need a tundra to look after
tú dear familiar dear shipwrecker salamander with wings of swallowtail lucky charm fisher- queen waterless & aloof
It's just us two & we are twistersthat don't leave the ground to [ ]Welcome to our moonhaus& we don't have to ghost
shout— we're all the worlds living between tú which is why the moon
wears her sunglasses at night where exploding stars fall shock breakout bright
when kiko & I are kicking upa tundra out of— tú& summoning the sun & dew & oh
we're over the you of you
& howling until the wolves coo until the cow jumps over [ ] & we enchantress shine our super red from giants blue & dear nasa rogue that's us collapsing gravity so star power we vogue
& oh meteorites & asteroids we set fire to & make more than a planet out of dear [ ] & dear moon do you need a
do you need a
the far side of we are all the dark side moonwalking after you
Not all goodbyes are tragic unless they beginfor someone else & this one did & I can't stop
carrying you under my coastal grooves where there's a hundred years of you larval for life, forever newt- like & never to arise the canals & floating gardens. Go on & feed [finite them ] to kelp & coral reefs. Never again to such perfect day security would I promise our tartare lives. Or would I try to close such eyes that bury me alive in sea anemones growing toward our feet & never where the sun would be
do we bite off each other's limbs & return in angles un-right
when our ancestors said no & went back in, supercluster that would drown the universe.
We are the layer under human skin. We are swimming toward each other under their dead skin like a thousand holy grails smashed against white cells & terrain graces. My darling laurel -wreathed & unripened,
there is only you
knocking down a sad plastic fish bowl tower with melting stone & dandelion.
To can't do. To overly over-you, to te amo [wrong name], to songs of wronged
I think we & planting boxwood & snowdrop for not our winter children, nor sweet box or winterberry. To facetiming winter silence
for hours. To no camellias & christmas rose touching through a screen & still not sorry
about "somehorse" I knew in iceland for less than a week & some other life lurking on black sand shores.
To my life, to yours, to sulking under half-sunken moons & oh the places we won't go,
to not airbnbing haciendas of airy rooms & canopy beds
engraved with lions rose-tailed & rose-maned.
To drug restaurants that serve only cobra lilies
with a side of blackbirds who wield spiked hammers— a kind of punishment
for that ]]horse[[ I still long for.To splinters & spittingthe names I'll nevercurse you
in kitchen inferno [when burning certain animals] without remorse. To your most exquisite stews & fermented cabbage jars
I won't break
to catch a broken down train.
To that first trail we missed. To falling off & eroded hoofprint.
To the city you saved
by sticking a scorched trainer
in sliding door &
what's so wrong
with hell anyway. To
happiness as a betrayal of what is happening to people we love & to people not just waiting around to die. To love as resistance but not always the way back. To I can't can't I. To you
crashing into the bathroom & fishing me out of the sink & carrying me in your arms
like that scene in the bodyguard only the song I sing has no queen, has no eyes or dreams, there is only dim & dog-eared kaddish. To forgiving me for all the plums I'd most certainly devour. To the platypus & fisher king, to breaking in case of emergency. To reading adonis
in a crowded bar while televisions signal flare amid a canopy of crows. To having hope in our pop-up whit of the world, its edges sour & peeling. To never having really left jerusalem which is why I'm still busted stars & throwing elbows. To the hours we made horses between nightfall & war. To should go home. To leaving it the longest way of derailed horsecry & amaranthine bones.