by Shannon Fox
By Audre Lord
Is the alphabet responsible
for the book
in which it is written
that makes me peevish and nasty
and wish I were dumb again?
We practiced drawing our letters
digging into the top of the desk
and old Sister Eymard
rapped our knuckles
until they bled
she was the meanest of all
and we knew she was crazy
but none of the grownups
would listen to us
until she died in a madhouse.
I am a bleak heroism of words
the refuse
to be buried alive
with the liars.
SHANNON FOX
Shannon is a multi-genre writer of stories spanning past, present, and future. Her work has appeared in DreamForge Anvil, Air & Nothingness Press, and Third Flatiron, among others. She has a B.A. in Literature-Writing from UC-San Diego. When not writing, she spends her time dancing with horses which she’s found is significantly easier to do with four feet instead of two. She lives in San Diego, CA, with her husband and three cats – one of whom may or may not be a demon in disguise.
Author | Owner at Minute Marketing | Equestrian | Real Estate Industry Expert | Small Business Marketing | Colorado Native | San Diego Based
Shannon Fox - Author 
Reblogged this on Bleeding Heart.