Dec. 11, 2022
Audio
Bioluminescence
By Alice Paige
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Description of the image of the text: The poem’s structure is a square then half a page of white space. Then at the bottom of the page the same text is flipped so that the letters of the second repetition of the poem are read upside down. The only difference in the two repetitions is that in the image of the text that is right side up there is the sentence: “Mania as a boat slashed open, a gutted fish, a lopsided smile.” The word mania is red on the page amidst the traditional black text. In the upside down reflection, the sentence is “Depression as a boat slashed open, a gutted fish, a lopsided smile.” The word depression is in blue amidst the black text.
Bioluminescence
by Alice Paige
This ocean tide of can’t get out of bed. Mental illness as a beast. As needle-point teeth. As leviathan. Swallowed whole once again. Klonopin and Jonah are both consumed in prayer. Probing tongue of exhaustion. Ciliated throat of forget-me-nots. I dream of dead friends—blinking lights like eyelashes swept across the iris. Bioluminescent bodies. I have touched hands that no longer exist. Mania as a boat slashed open, a gutted fish, a lopsided smile. Traveler and knife. To eat and be eaten. This year is the night sky as an ocean hanged. Violent metaphors are the only way to get at the damned thing. I keep trying to get at the damned thing. I keep trying to get out of the damned thing. Hunger is disgusting. I am so hungry to be more than this. For the sky to be the sky. To not pale in sickness with the rising of a manic moon. Blood red. It tugs at every blue body of water. Caught between. Between. Between. Repetition makes me realer.
red. It tugs at every body of water. Caught between. Between. Between. Repetition makes me realer. c moon. Blood be more than this. For the sky to be the sky. To not pale in sickness with the rising of a mani at the damned thing. I keep trying to get out of the damned thing. Hunger is disgusting. I am so hungry to way to get at the damned thing. I keep trying to get sky as an ocean hanged. Violent metaphors are the only slashed open, a gutted fish, a lopsided smile. Traveler and knife. To eat and be eaten. This year is the night as a boat Depression is. Bioluminescent bodies. I have touched hands that no longer exist. across the ir blinking lights like eyelashes swept — nots. I dream of dead friends - me - exhaustion. Ciliated throat of forget
Swallowed whole once again. Klonopin and Jonah are both consumed in prayer. Probing tongue of point teeth. As leviathan. - st. As needle This ocean tide of can’t get out of bed. Mental illness as a bea
Alice Paige
Alice Paige is a trans woman, essayist, and storyteller living in St. Paul, Mn. Her writing examines topics like the transformative power of queer love, the resilience of the body, and how community can heal even the deepest wounds. Her work can be found at FreezeRay Poetry, What Are Birds?, Coffin Bell, VASTARIEN, Button Poetry, Write About Now, Luna Station Quarterly and Take A Stand, Art Against Hate: A Raven Chronicles Anthology. She is a fellow of The LOFT Mentor Series, the Digital Pedagogical Lab, and has her MFA in Creative Writing from Hamline University.
You can find her on Instagram.
Image description: Alice Paige, a white woman with short, dark hair and severe, smokey eye makeup is pictured from the waist up leaning against a red couch. She is wearing a black dress shirt and red tie and is staring at the camera in contemplation. Her left arm is covered in various tattoos.