trauma suture

https://abovegroundpress.blogspot.com/2020/05/new-from-aboveground-press-trauma.html

My new chapbook, trauma suture, uses erasure to excavate small truths & reconstruct identity. I created these poems while participating in 30/30s in a group called The Poeming, created by E.K. Anderson. I work with two texts; Indexing by Seanan McGuire, and Flowers in the Attic by V.C. Andrews. Most of the erasure or remixed poems were created using a single page of the text. I’m grateful to Rob McLennan for publishing it with above/ground press!

Poet Spotlight with Rob McLennan

Three poems from my “sutures” series are featured in Rob McLennan’s Spotlight series today, along with a poetics re: erasures and trauma. Here’s an excerpt:

“Erasures can be a useful form for processing trauma because it can helps the writer externalize any traumatic events that come up, while also building towards a catharsis. They can help one excavate and uplight these traumatic experiences; they can help us shine a light on the dark. Erasures can also be less labor-intensive because the author is not singularly responsible for the poem that’s created. It is a collaboration between the author and the existing text. The creation of an erasure poem can happen organically, through a series of associations and connections that develop between the author and the page.”

https://medium.com/@robmclennan/spotlight-series-43-melissa-eleftherion-2d80d5615e24

little ditch

LITTLE DITCH COVER resized

My chapbook about a teenage girl who excavates her agency from internalized misogyny, rape culture, & sexual abuse is now available from Rob McLennan’s above/ground press. 

from ammonite sonnet

the ammonite an index of sutures
i got tired of cataloging them
hermetically sealing little traumas
afraid they’d get to know one another go boom
little mother catastrophes instead
i smashed little rocks to bits in a ditch
each shard a memory released pressure
from stomach the common burial ground
the cavity of accumulation
each little box coated in dust and feelings
each glass stone chamber not really secret
i get ready to shatter the discretions
i open my palms no explosions no pain
coalesce little traumas wrap your wounds
around each other a chrysalis blood
a becoming of feathers of air a fire