Machine Gun Secrets
Flee the folk who hunt us. It is endurance, hopping over deranged legacies and lack of fantasy to keep hidden within the tall, wet grass of expression. We examine the space before us. Spend more time at this then sleep. Privy to all songbirds, we devour the maggots. Do not become digestible. Be silent and wait. Orifices can speak in many tongues and often do. Let the underbelly betray itself. Anything else would be constipated and cloaked in a happy ending. A cavern, a grotto, a cave can either be a lethargic haven for ritual or it can be the dark that uncorks the swelling blast of divulgence and shaky insurgency. Implode with a curious splendor. Anxiety rips open timidity of the subdued and vaulted. Never domesticate excruciating phobias. Each is its own bouquet of constellations. Unclog the hairballs festering inside the unsaid. Snatch the soot. Time tripwires and cages our smoldering prison of silence if we don’t lambast it.
Meg Tuite‘s latest collection is Three By Tuite. She is author of six story collections and five chapbooks. She won the Twin Antlers Poetry award for her poetry collection, Bare Bulbs Swinging, and is included in Best of Small Press 2021 and Wigleaf’s Top 50 stories for 2022, 2023. She teaches writing retreats and online classes hosted by Bending Genres. She is also the fiction editor of Bending Genres and associate editor at Narrative Magazine.