Chelsea Hart
all you need is a madness
a brokenness
a twisted piece
maybe it’s tucked under your ribs
or smeared on the curve of your brain
or in place of your fingernails
or filling your kidneys
or chewing your food
all you need is the beast of you
your hopeless horror
gnawing, hungry
something to throw yourself
towards into
in front of
something to quit sleep for
something you can’t name
write about it
on napkins
gum wrappers
the back of your hand
give color to its weighted shape
line it on city brick in the dark
this beast
this you

sculpt its teeth, give it bite
give it a tune, b minor
burn it out one drag at a time
learn its taste mixed with whiskey
this beast
this you
do everything
be anything
except complete
nothing worthwhile ever came
from wholeness
art is born of horror
and we are beasts
with a fair face, on the throne