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Green Orion Woman Time-Travels with Ghosts
Green Orion Woman pricks a pear tree. Pearly tears drip blood into the coffin. She is glad she is alive, carried like the Queen of Sheba down Cordova Street, four handlers, one on each stretcher corner. The caravan sways. The beach sand dusts her feet. Mission dogs howl. St Augustine’s ghosts play in Tolomato graveyard, out to dare Indians and robber barons, lurch rum runner to ruin the maiden’s whites. She shuffles her feet as she walks, Green Orion Woman, to warn stingrays of her presence. Spanish priests press down the martyr crown. Cathedral close, bells call to prayer. Cut the tongue, paint the temple. The Apopinax tree beckons her back to the living, dead bride incorrupt where the old ones, unshriven, claw at heaven’s door. Earth-smeared chin. Green Orion Woman takes her pew place, bows to the sea.
Green Orion Woman Marches
Green Orion Woman gets a cold hand, holds sign awkward,message read, motherfucker, eat pussy faggot creamy sweet noses up in air all around as she stands in line, to walk bravely on the sidewalk, don’t take the street, well what is change change is in direction, level, agitation, in open fist fuck sprawl leather garment worker sex. Open it up, relax, wider, yes, answer has to be yes, and then you push. Green Orion Woman blows warm stream of consciousness into crowdpleasing rollercoast. Change is God. Empathy aligns march speculation. Feel who is not striding right along, not wheeling level, no limping, squashed wallflower introvert screen-viewer longs to rebel. Rhythm trod tired latecomers, feel the piston in Green Orion Woman’s battle song.
Green Orion Woman Confirms
Green Orion Woman confirms nothing. No to this one and to that, and no to this oily line, snake line, bite the snake’s tail, see the atom blossom lilac at horizon’s perimeter, this is what is known as an alternative, future. She has been here before, in that space ship’s hold, her and the other green women bored and painting their toes, course readers spread over substantial muscular thighs, Green Orion Woman perched on the hem of metal’s seamy belly. They confirmed nothing, not a word to allow those blue eyes, black eyes, shaded, to imagine for a minute that this was voluntary, that this was what she wanted instead of peace to read under the tree. Green Orion Woman looks for the stars.
Green Orion Woman in the Rain
Green Orion Woman feels tremors in her hand, elbow, knee twinge in sympathy land groan, new waterfalls burrow landing sites. Slough off, discarded, drain waste. Ozone smell terraforms for rays, cartilaginous fish, older beasts swim again. None imagined Sharknado to be real. Hills awash in tilted pour, caves open beneath gourmet ghettos, rainbow sinkholes for ice cream stores. Green Orion Woman braids sweetgrass dry in public library, marks a landing site, to come.Warble red green blue, faster, frenzied rhythm syncopates to deer’s heat beat, hooves vanish over swollen hills. Neon signs light undulating strip. Here, shouts brass beat, rusted trombone. Green Orion Woman’s orchestra drum beats, here.
Green Orion Woman On A Californian Walk
Green Orion Woman swings Point Reyes party scene. Honkytonk thick skin. White as eye can see. Luxury pelts pink downed deep around yoga toes, brown latte eyes in the colored end paper bookstore. Extinction, climate change, sea lions’ angry roar at advancing sea, above, below, Green Orion Woman dances with polar bear in her dreams, it’s too easy to dismiss Mexican salad eater, wrong leaf side disposes narratives of rural gentrification. Tech bros drive through cowgirl creamery. Elephant seals howl at Green Orion Woman’s shawls in dune shadows, move to end.
Petra Kuppers is a disability culture activist and a community performance artist. She is a Professor at the University of Michigan, and she teaches on the MFA in Interdisciplinary Arts at Goddard College. Her most recent poetry collection is PearlStitch (Spuyten Duyvil: 2016). Her stories and poems have appeared in Drunken Boat, PANK, The Sycamore Review, Visionary Tongue, Future Fire, Capricious, Wordgathering, Festival Writer, and Accessing the Future: A Disability-Themed Anthology of Speculative Fiction. Her first fiction podcast, Ice Bar, appeared in March 2017 with PodCastle. She is the Artistic Director of The Olimpias, an international disability culture collective. She lives in Ypsilanti, Michigan, with her poet partner and collaborator, Stephanie Heit.