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Molly Likovich
weird sisters
     after olivia gatwood

i call myself angry first and bitch second so these men know exactly
what i’m bringing to the table.

a 23-year-old girl. with breasts
big enough and height short enough that i look kid enough

to still seem manic and pixie and dream and just youthfully and wrongfully
fuckable enough to also be girl. there is power

in girlhood. ‘girl’ means to exist in blood.
so here’s to the witches. here’s to the coven meetings held over mother’s dinner

plates. here’s to staining bedsheets. here’s to my favorite female
poets proving reincarnation

because no matter what thread we follow, a girlhood lineage traces
back to a witch hunt. here’s to the catholic altars we abandoned

for kitchen counters. and to all the boys who called me pretty
to try and smack me red–i am a warning sign

passed down from centuries of john
proctors. i am made of forests and grave-

yards. i smoke weed when i inhabit a couch
that belongs to a sister in the city of angels. i see

my wedding taking place over a tomb-
stone and i buried my first child in a bathroom. i was made

wrist-bloody by a boy who called me different and the news told
me men get to equate investigations

into treason with women being burned on stakes for speaking.
there's a trickery in our bones

they couldn’t burn away. theres a sage
spell in our crazy. so we

call ourselves angry bitch before they can bare
teeth. we mark our territory with
menstrual blood before they can find a match. and i darken
into the pretty monster i’ve made

of myself. i stopped screaming alone in my car and started screaming
in their faces when they tried to touch me and call it love. i bite

and bark and don’t care which ex-lover will tell it worse. i am night
skies and bloody knuckles. i am a cracked shot

glass on a rotting table. i am a water sign and witch #1. i am grown from the
punching bag of male hands. i am the thane of cawdor,

thane of glamis and all hail the lady that came
before macbeth, because today i am king and you boys–the sows. blood

existence in thunder, lightning or in rain. so when you hit
me, call me an angry bitch–i smile
red. i say thank you. thank you, very much.