Ode to the Dirt Fags by KD Hack

"Dirt Fags" © KD Hack

fucking the flowers like

they're forever waking

from the wettest of

dreams, making

something like love

out of soiled palms

& hose water. I will lap it

up any day, any way

you slice the radishes

works for me, don’t worry

about precision, I made

the decision forever ago

to forgo every nicety

in favor of more

fragrant flavor, fiery

greens mounded in

mason jars donned in

duct tape boasting script

not quite legible to those

not yet fluent

in our language, which lives

in the spaces between

fingers in the soil & pencils

on the page, later used

to light our fire because

nothing is too precious

here, except for each

seed we sow & each

bite we take, which is to say

everything is precious.

I will take every cob

to their golden bone

before flinging them back

into the field, which is,

of course, where they belong.

ABOUT:

KD Hack (they/he) is a Queer/Trans poet, death worker & dirt fag. Their relations with the Queer community, grief, ruralness & our more than human connections make up the map of his life. His artistic practices were nourished across the Northwoods of Wisconsin, & reside in the spaces between fingers in the soil & pencils on the page. When they aren't writing or covered in soil, they bake for their beloveds & teach two step/line dancing to their community. His work can be found in Peach Fuzz, Fruitslice, Querencia Press, Transfix Mag, & South Broadway Press, among others.

EDITOR'S SONG PICK: Lick The Flame - effe