{"id":14427,"date":"2022-10-30T23:30:00","date_gmt":"2022-10-31T04:30:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/?p=14427"},"modified":"2025-10-27T19:47:01","modified_gmt":"2025-10-28T00:47:01","slug":"lore-of-swamp-girl","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/2022\/10\/30\/lore-of-swamp-girl\/","title":{"rendered":"Lore of Swamp Girl, Gator&#8217;s Confession, &amp; Where Willows Weep"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<ul class=\"wp-block-social-links is-content-justification-right is-layout-flex wp-container-core-social-links-is-layout-765c4724 wp-block-social-links-is-layout-flex\"><li class=\"wp-social-link wp-social-link-facebook  wp-block-social-link\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/profile.php?id=61556140010887\" class=\"wp-block-social-link-anchor\"><svg width=\"24\" height=\"24\" viewBox=\"0 0 24 24\" version=\"1.1\" xmlns=\"http:\/\/www.w3.org\/2000\/svg\" aria-hidden=\"true\" focusable=\"false\"><path d=\"M12 2C6.5 2 2 6.5 2 12c0 5 3.7 9.1 8.4 9.9v-7H7.9V12h2.5V9.8c0-2.5 1.5-3.9 3.8-3.9 1.1 0 2.2.2 2.2.2v2.5h-1.3c-1.2 0-1.6.8-1.6 1.6V12h2.8l-.4 2.9h-2.3v7C18.3 21.1 22 17 22 12c0-5.5-4.5-10-10-10z\"><\/path><\/svg><span class=\"wp-block-social-link-label screen-reader-text\">Facebook<\/span><\/a><\/li>\n\n<li class=\"wp-social-link wp-social-link-instagram  wp-block-social-link\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.instagram.com\/boudin_mcneese\/\" class=\"wp-block-social-link-anchor\"><svg width=\"24\" height=\"24\" viewBox=\"0 0 24 24\" version=\"1.1\" xmlns=\"http:\/\/www.w3.org\/2000\/svg\" aria-hidden=\"true\" focusable=\"false\"><path d=\"M12,4.622c2.403,0,2.688,0.009,3.637,0.052c0.877,0.04,1.354,0.187,1.671,0.31c0.42,0.163,0.72,0.358,1.035,0.673 c0.315,0.315,0.51,0.615,0.673,1.035c0.123,0.317,0.27,0.794,0.31,1.671c0.043,0.949,0.052,1.234,0.052,3.637 s-0.009,2.688-0.052,3.637c-0.04,0.877-0.187,1.354-0.31,1.671c-0.163,0.42-0.358,0.72-0.673,1.035 c-0.315,0.315-0.615,0.51-1.035,0.673c-0.317,0.123-0.794,0.27-1.671,0.31c-0.949,0.043-1.233,0.052-3.637,0.052 s-2.688-0.009-3.637-0.052c-0.877-0.04-1.354-0.187-1.671-0.31c-0.42-0.163-0.72-0.358-1.035-0.673 c-0.315-0.315-0.51-0.615-0.673-1.035c-0.123-0.317-0.27-0.794-0.31-1.671C4.631,14.688,4.622,14.403,4.622,12 s0.009-2.688,0.052-3.637c0.04-0.877,0.187-1.354,0.31-1.671c0.163-0.42,0.358-0.72,0.673-1.035 c0.315-0.315,0.615-0.51,1.035-0.673c0.317-0.123,0.794-0.27,1.671-0.31C9.312,4.631,9.597,4.622,12,4.622 M12,3 C9.556,3,9.249,3.01,8.289,3.054C7.331,3.098,6.677,3.25,6.105,3.472C5.513,3.702,5.011,4.01,4.511,4.511 c-0.5,0.5-0.808,1.002-1.038,1.594C3.25,6.677,3.098,7.331,3.054,8.289C3.01,9.249,3,9.556,3,12c0,2.444,0.01,2.751,0.054,3.711 c0.044,0.958,0.196,1.612,0.418,2.185c0.23,0.592,0.538,1.094,1.038,1.594c0.5,0.5,1.002,0.808,1.594,1.038 c0.572,0.222,1.227,0.375,2.185,0.418C9.249,20.99,9.556,21,12,21s2.751-0.01,3.711-0.054c0.958-0.044,1.612-0.196,2.185-0.418 c0.592-0.23,1.094-0.538,1.594-1.038c0.5-0.5,0.808-1.002,1.038-1.594c0.222-0.572,0.375-1.227,0.418-2.185 C20.99,14.751,21,14.444,21,12s-0.01-2.751-0.054-3.711c-0.044-0.958-0.196-1.612-0.418-2.185c-0.23-0.592-0.538-1.094-1.038-1.594 c-0.5-0.5-1.002-0.808-1.594-1.038c-0.572-0.222-1.227-0.375-2.185-0.418C14.751,3.01,14.444,3,12,3L12,3z M12,7.378 c-2.552,0-4.622,2.069-4.622,4.622S9.448,16.622,12,16.622s4.622-2.069,4.622-4.622S14.552,7.378,12,7.378z M12,15 c-1.657,0-3-1.343-3-3s1.343-3,3-3s3,1.343,3,3S13.657,15,12,15z M16.804,6.116c-0.596,0-1.08,0.484-1.08,1.08 s0.484,1.08,1.08,1.08c0.596,0,1.08-0.484,1.08-1.08S17.401,6.116,16.804,6.116z\"><\/path><\/svg><span class=\"wp-block-social-link-label screen-reader-text\">Instagram<\/span><\/a><\/li><\/ul>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\"><strong>Ryleigh Wann<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><strong>__________<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p style=\"font-size:25px\"><strong>Lore of Swamp Girl<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<pre class=\"wp-block-verse has-medium-font-size\">I wasn\u2019t always this wretched.\nMen paint me up when they talk \noutside the shaken down juke joint,\ndrunk off warm whiskey, drool pooling \nfrom snarled teeth: <em>the woman who hides\nin the swamp off the Delta\u2014\nmurky with moss and mud and sedge grass,\neyes wide as the Mississippi sky\u2014\nmakin\u2019 love to the gators, \nwearin\u2019 their teeth \u2018tween her tits<\/em>.\n\nThe truth is, I\u2019m not sure \nhow I came to be stranded \namong cattails and Cottonmouths, \nbut I can sense a storm \ndays before its orgasm shakes \nthe roots in this swamp. My bones\nfeel that swelling pain \nas it rattles beneath \nmy mocking sky. \n\nYou said our lust was as natural \nas a katydid\u2019s hymn at dusk, \ntrue as kudzu strangling a sycamore. \nInevitable, like that tree\u2019s\neventual uprooting. I conjure you \nfrom here, so far out\nmy seraphim song won\u2019t reach you.\n\nI will not rest until I have\ntasted the tongue of any man\nor woman who calls me <em>Doll <\/em>\nor until you lie with me\nunder this cypress tree.\n\nOnly then will I leave \nthese waters that birthed me, \nmy fruit-rot core better for it\u2014 \nand no one will know the ending\nof this, my genesis. How I \nwas once this land\u2019s first\nwounded animal.\n<\/pre>\n\n\n\n<p><strong>__________<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p style=\"font-size:25px\"><strong>Gator&#8217;s Confession<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<pre class=\"wp-block-verse has-medium-font-size\">I would have swallowed her whole \nhad I thought it would make things easier. \nIt was late April when infrasonic\nvibrations brought her to me. Mating season.\nThe sun was just beginning to rise, fracture \nof crimson light on the lotus pods, and her\u2014\nwoman sprawled along the stump of a log, \nwrapped in exposed roots, footprints fresh on the bank. \n\nWhen she opened her eyes, their dark greens\nfelt familiar, felt like my mother\u2019s claw holding my chin\nafter I lost my egg tooth. Small thing, darling doe\nwhimpering upon seeing me, and something \nabout her shock made me want to be both\n\ncause and nurse of any wound that could create \na song like that. Her tangled hair was mud dark, a tar-\nblack sky, and her whisper, when she asked what I wanted, \nappeared like millions of stars in the Southern twilight\nI wished on until my voice dried out. \n\n<em>Everything<\/em>. And so it was. The very genesis\nof our lore was with one swift bang of my head. \nThis human knew that\u2019s how gators claimed\ntheir birthright. Their bride. I know this because \nshe extended her arm, glowing transparent as gossamer.\nWhen I dragged her home, I told her crocodiles \nshed tears when they eat their prey. Swamp Girl \nrose to the bait, asked how alligators differed. \nShe would learn soon enough.\n<\/pre>\n\n\n\n<p><strong>__________<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p style=\"font-size:25px\"><strong>Where Willows Weep<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<pre class=\"wp-block-verse has-medium-font-size\">Somewhere deep behind the bald cypress\nwhere willows weep, where the water is \ngreen as corpse skin &amp; algae swallows \nfallen trees, Swamp Girl gives \nbirth. Listen: the cries of cicadas cover her\nshrill screams\u2013the bitter breeze \nis coming to be. Daddy Gator isn\u2019t\naround\u2013out on a fresh hunt, a new doe to \npin down. Purple Gallinule, her doula, \nwipes sweat from the mother\u2019s forehead, \nkisses sharp cheekbones,\nwhispering: <em>there, there, sweet peach<\/em>. \nFists clench the moss &amp; with one last \ngrunt, the hatchling is born upon the lotus pod. \nSwamp Girl picks up her creation, \nholds wrath-machine in her arms:\nbrown scales blurring, claw hands \nlike two stubby buds. \nThe tail, long &amp; striped, curves down \nthe small of its back, while the face\u2014oh God,\nthe face\u2014stares hungrily into its mother\u2019s\neyes, the same feral curiosity as the child\u2019s father.\nBlue eyes with deep, black slits\ndon\u2019t blink. Tufts of yellow hair sprout from\nthe scalp. Lips surrounding spiked\nteeth don\u2019t cry\u2014they don\u2019t even quiver. \n<em>Loathed child, you did not deserve this.<\/em>\nSwamp Girl draws the thing to her breast, \noffers a nipple. The swamp weeps for\nthe new mother, flooding the surrounding\nplains, drowning out anguish\noften mistaken for something innate. \nThis, after all, is how weeping \nwillows were named.\n<\/pre>\n\n\n\n<p><strong>__________<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\"><strong>Ryleigh Wann<\/strong> (she\/her) earned her MFA from UNC Wilmington, where she taught poetry and served as the comics editor for Ecotone. She is the Lyric Essentials editor for Sundress Publications and currently lives in Brooklyn. Follow her on Twitter @wannderfullll or read her published poems and prose on her website ryleighwann.com<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><strong>__________<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n<div class=\"wp-block-image\">\n<figure class=\"alignleft size-full\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"438\" height=\"211\" src=\"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/37\/2024\/01\/boudin-logo-1.jpg\" alt=\"\" class=\"wp-image-15484\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/37\/2024\/01\/boudin-logo-1.jpg 438w, https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/37\/2024\/01\/boudin-logo-1-300x145.jpg 300w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 438px) 100vw, 438px\" \/><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n<p class=\"has-text-align-center has-large-font-size\">&lt;&lt; <a href=\"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/2022\/10\/30\/pumpkin-ash-and-cypress-knees\/\">Back<\/a> <a href=\"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/2022\/10\/30\/victoria-de-benedicty\/\">Next<\/a> &gt;&gt;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">To learn more about submitting your work to <em><a href=\"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/boudin-submissions\/\">Boudin<\/a><\/em> or applying to McNeese State University&#8217;s Creative Writing <a href=\"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/mfa-application-submissions\/\">MFA program<\/a>, please visit Submissions for details.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Ryleigh Wann __________ Lore of Swamp Girl I wasn\u2019t always this wretched. Men paint me up when they talk outside the shaken down juke joint, drunk off warm whiskey, drool pooling from snarled teeth: the woman who hides in the swamp off the Delta\u2014 murky with moss and mud and sedge grass, eyes wide as&hellip;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[242],"tags":[75,147,145,155],"class_list":["post-14427","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-boodin-it-came-from-the-swamp-oct-22","tag-boudin","tag-halloween","tag-poetry-2","tag-ryleigh-wann"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14427","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=14427"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14427\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":21100,"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14427\/revisions\/21100"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=14427"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=14427"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=14427"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}