But.
Here.
Tripping for earth a storefront becomes a brownstone
becomes a crushed pill becomes a snort a red party cup swirling
prayer
I said oh God I’m trouble
God said your trouble keeps me
half extant all spirit
my body
becomes
two then four then thousand itsy bitsy bodies falling from sky
biting into tree
bark
the dog
inside my nesting place
woke to alarm
only to find its muzzle
glued with web
petitioning
without location or culture
alive still.
Somewhere.
But.
POETRY November 5, 2021
Erasure
Ayesha Raees identifies herself as a hybrid creating hybrid poetry through hybrid forms. Raees currently serves as an Assistant Poetry Editor at AAWW's The Margins and has received fellowships from Asian American Writers' Workshop, Brooklyn Poets, and Kundiman. Raees's first book of poetry, "Coining A Wishing Tower" won the Broken River Prize hosted by Platypus Press and judged by Kaveh Akbar, and will be forthcoming in March 2022. Her website is: https://www.ayesharaees.com/