Kailey Tedesco is the author of She Used to be on a Milk Carton (April Gloaming Publishing) and These Ghosts of Mine, Siamese (Dancing Girl Press). She is the editor-in-chief of Rag Queen Periodical and a staff writer for Luna Luna Magazine. She also performs with the Poetry Brothel. Currently, she teaches literature courses on three campuses, including a course on the archetype of the witch. Her recent work has been published in Electric Literature, Phoebe Journal, Sugar House Review, American Chordata, and more.
Kailey Tedesco
Lizzie / Lizzie
It’s a rush to connect with a spirit. One house
with brick walls & one house with green
paint. Some floors ashen /
must-wet / powdered
in doughnuts we licked
from our palms. I need to keep your
aural clippings / cigarette
dust / lavender
placenta. You kept uteri & a baby
ghost-born. I’m that baby’s
daughter & I’ve no ear
for tongues —
I hear an orphan /
barren / suckling light. I hear
bad static & CPRed
dandelions, attempts
to connect. I bury your music
boxes, the ones I’d wind
all at once. 100 ballets
haloing my detachment. You could see
meals through my opacity: biscuit
heart / corn lung / gravy appendices —
I’m eating. Now come find
my porcelain teeth —
I’m bleeding.
"Lizzie / Lizzie" is a poem from a larger, book-length project that explores the duality of the Borden Trials and of Lizzie Borden herself. The book is narrated by a spiritual medium who is trying to contact Lizzie for answers, but ultimately finds there are lines blurred between Lizzie Borden and the self. "Lizzie / Lizzi" is intended to be a sort of capstone for this project that plays with the language of death in a way that makes it clear that so many of us have this desire to take in stories of death, especially deaths that are so distanced from us that we can treat them as a tale instead of a history.
Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published monthly by Glass Poetry Press.
All contents © the author.