One Poem by Dylan McNulty-Holmes

Misinterpreting “All About My Mother” from the Closet

Nineteen and bent double with it—
Agrado, pleasure herself               hair the exact colour
Of trouble proclaiming                  We become more authentic
The more closely               we resemble
What we’ve dreamed of being—       Asked how am I       to become 
An upturned stool                behind the bar’s darkened window—

Endless fortune tellers’ cards         of the sea inverted
But didn’t guess             I was being tasked 
With changing the tides—
Sequins of air              rising off submerged 
Limbs, but no use in it, what we dreamed of seeing

I cannibalized pleasure. Mylar desire      painted my 
Dark roots red and waited.        I persisted
In the angle between her lashes’ shadows
And the fading                 bruise underneath.  

Nineteen         a disastrous atrophy, I wanted
To flash so brightly       the too much of me 
Would leak light             all over the reel
Would scorch somehow back to lightlessness. 

 

Dylan McNulty-Holmes (he/they) is a transmasculine poet and fiction writer. He is the author of the experimental poetry works Survivalism for Hedonists (Querencia Press, 2023) and Half a Million Mothers (shortlisted for the 2022 New Media Writing Prize). His words have been translated into five languages, and featured in ANMLY, Pilot Press, Puerto del Sol, Redivider, Split Lip, and elsewhere. Find him at dylanmcnultyholmes.com.