a cigarette burns thru the sleeve of an orange
Carhartt. night shift, red lights. breastfed men cry
with desire & sweat flutters in the moonlight. care is
within reach but difficult to hold. another lament
marred by toxic fumes. all the creatine a body can
pump is harnessed in love letters to John Deere: dear
John, if I ever slept with a man it would be you.
woven blanket. northern lights. proprioception—all
thigh. there’s a neutrality here, a forgivability. no
crime, only nature; hardly even that. hardly even
Me. only moments to go before the industry
swallows itself. we’ve broken every branch. i
promise you. dear John: have I said enough?
Raegan Cote (she/her) is a dramatic lilac-loving poet from the Unceded Territory of the Lheidli T’enneh (Prince George, BC). She is pursuing an English MA at the University of Northern British Columbia. Her poetry has previously been published in Room and Anodyne Magazine. You can find Raegan on Instagram @pulptownfairy.
