Nooks Krannie

harvest of 3
(for kathy, tommy and ruth)
there’s a garden i go to when the wind roughs up my hair and the wet around my nose seems to
crave a red ocean /
a coil rusted by too much skin, protrudes / running / in parallel tunnels. garbage bags / cuts / see-
thru / bending with each of us / harvesting our ribs for winners / of see-thru / smiles & purple
gums.
there’s a garden i search for / in arousal / my hips dance behind the / syringe for a better pain. a
pigmentation deeper than my khaki sullied pants that cover my deeper / marks / bleeding in
chocolate wafer thins / i’m just a girl behind walgreens, figuring out the discolor of my unclean
mud.
there’s a garden i left untouched in an ocean / soil drips and i eat my own disgrace.

Nooks Krannie is a Palestinian/Persian female writer from Montreal, Canada. Her most recent poetry chapbook is “candied pussy” published by Thistlemilk Press. She tumbls at http://nkrannie.tumblr.com/ and instagrams @nookskrannie.