Devon Balwit

Devon Balwit

Devon Balwit teaches in Portland, Oregon. She has six chapbooks and three collections out or forthcoming, among them: We are Procession, Seismograph (Nixes Mate Books), Risk Being/Complicated (A collaboration with Canadian artist Lorette C. Luzajic); Where You Were Going Never Was (Grey Borders); and Motes at Play in the Halls of Light (Kelsay Books). Her individual poems can (or will) be found in The Cincinnati Review, apt, Posit, The Carolina Quarterly, Vector Press; Red Earth Review; The Turnip Truck(s), Drylandlit; Eclectica, SWWIM, Peacock Journal, and more. See https://pelapdx.wixsite.com/devonbalwitpoet.

Each day older, a smolder in this spent body,
I wonder at my anger, this wish to stab somebody.

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Tell me about the heft of righteousness
in the hand, the percussive wish

to draw blood. Recount the wince
savored on the palate, the sob

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Repulsed,
I read his essay
about why it’s unnatural
for gays to marry, red pen poised.  I am not
neutral, not objective.  Speech is free, but so is judgment.

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