Birdwolf is a new year-long project authored by the collective Entropy community. It is a collaborative online epic poem written by the Entropy community on a weekly basis. A different author will write the next stanza or section of the poem each week, to be posted every Tuesday, following the previous post from the previous week, and following a very limited set of guidelines (that each author has one week to write the next piece after the previous week’s installment goes up, that the installment should build from the previous section’s content and form, and that contributions should range between 8 and 24 lines or be a visual work).
Follow the entire epic poem here: Birdwolf.
The fourteenth installment is presented this week by Brooke Wonders.
A self-run horde of horde-maiden helpers wait
to pare back the biting pyres of men without fate.
Singled out, singing of burnt hair and seared flesh
they rule as snake-sisters beneath a geas.
A meteor-shaven beard, swift morning comes.
Birdwolf hones her half-sword under the swan-light
without birdsong. Birdwolf! she our war-leaf wanderer,
her hair blue and wind-swept; sylvan she
for which we, maiden horde, went to the underworld.
Birdwolf frog-tongued, her echo suffers no fools;
icy fierce woman who swum darkly beneath
her fear of fishes, gray-breasted bold and wyrd-winged;
she who lived to fear again after a good scare;
a leviathan, she who held on.