unreal city

 unreal city

Kristy Bowen

dancing girl press & studio

A long poem inspired by TS Eliot's THE WASTELAND.

read it here



When we had bodies, the bodies were always at war.

With themselves or with other bodies.

So much blood in the body, and there

on the field. So much waste. We'd collect the bodies

and burn them in stacks. What good the body


unless it was bleeding out? When we had eyes,

we'd pluck them out onto plates. Hate the body

for its flesh and appetite, its flex and tuck.  Fucking

in the afternoons and then fighting all night.


When we were bodies, the blood ran us like machines. 

Like tiny plastic green men softening in too much sun.

Too much languor in the body when left too long untouched.

When we were bodies, we'd light ourselves on fire

to satisfy the body, just this once.