Mayhem Literary Journal is generously sponsored for 2019 by Te Whare Wananga o Waikato, The University of Waikato
issue 5

october 2017

issue 5 - october 2017

Mingled Memories - Dadon Rowell

Sam’s kisses melt on my tongue.
Silk sheets stick in my throat. 
Squashing flowers makes me feel decadent. 
A man in Venice bit my thumb.
Purple nail polish makes my pulse giggle.
Canberra winters give me see-through wrists.
Book pages stroke my skin.
The black cat asked what it felt like. 
Saying sir vibrates my skull.
The Madonna’s face was stained red. 
Melted chocolate looks good in my hair.
Peep-toed shoes make me cry. 
The doctor waited to assemble the pieces.
Rose petals burn my fingertips.
Visible brushstrokes tickle my thighs.
I wore the smell of coffee to Paris.

A History of the Body - Dadon Rowell

The body was not a whore,
She was more than an accessory of your rib.
The body was not a receptacle,
She was not designed to be filled with the sticky black tar of your sermons.
The body was not dirty,
She bled to give you the life that you spent calling her unclean.
The body was not a canvas for handprints,
She did not willingly wear the mottled adornments you gave her.
The body was not a gravestone,
She was more than your daughter, your wife, your mother.
The body was not a chalkboard,
She did not need your personality written into her skin.
The body was not a witch,
She bled red when your knife slashed her.
The body was not a dog,
She did not need your name and address on her collar.
The body was not a virgin,
She had to bleed to make room for those extra lives.
The body was not silent,
She could now tick the ballot box with the vocal chords she had wrestled back.
The body was not a lady,
She was allowed to fuck too.
The body was not a mother,
She could fence her womb with the pinstripes on her grey suit. 
The body is not perfect,
She is designed pocket-sized and sky-scraping.
The body is not a whore,
She owns each pound of flesh and it’s her strip-tease. 
The body does not belong to you.

Contributor's Note

Dadon Rowell is in the last semester of her English-History degree. She is also a part-time librarian, and has learnt that saying her majors and job title make her dynamite at parties.

 

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