Excerpts from “The Dick The Bitch and The Baby”

Hannah Hoch, Von Oben (From Above), 1926-27.

Von Oben (From Above) by Hannah Hoch, 1926-27

                   i.          The Dickbitchbaby is confronted with having survived the night.

swoon, their favorite word at the moment
besides glance the two sounds an ambulance
makes, or used to, according to the Dickbitch

breakfast is something they remember:
Put Some Rocks In, We Can Soft Boil Them. Honestly,
I Could Go For Half a Sandal Or Even

That Pickled Birch. forearms come to
rest on either side of her head, fingers
grind against one another in front of their pockled

face. Would You Wipe These Plates For Me
While I Disinfect This Water? Bleach For Both
Baby sings from her swaddle bicckle backle bickel bockle

shitty lighter Just Use The Magnesium
Honey a drawer opens and rattles fondue
forks hmm I Can’t Find It. Well Here,

Take This Little Bit Of Steel Wool
And Let Me See Use The 9-volt From
The Stunner Thing. That’s It, wonder where that

magnesium got off to. Things Disappear, You
Know That, Dick. the wood, I Know, Sweet Bitch,
I Know, Baby, of their teeth catches

on the threads loose from their sleeves, Hmm
Could You Give Me A Hand? the knots pull against
sunlight pulsing through the parade of clouds

Why The Fuck Do They Got To Have
Their Own Parade, Huh? A Show Of Strength,
Rainbow Tanks And Glitter Bombs, Napalm—

That’s Enough, Please. Maybe Tonight
We Can Focus On Something Else. the stove
warms. You’re Right, Angel Baby. they kneel,

place the sizzling red coils to the bark
-splinter nest. kneecaps squish into
the somehow dry dirt, where they ran out of floorboard


the Dickbitch scrubs sex
handprints and faceprints                                     Jesus she says again
from the walls  the cumstains in                               the forty-sixth
equal measure the hardwood floor                             time since his departure:
                                                                                thirty-nine days    she has
more bloody knuckle                                   painted the new room
scraping his candle wax                     steel and moss  in the basement
from the windowsill
                                                             the spiders   warm her bed
After The Revolution                         little bright ones       the window
Who Cleans   The World                 opens into bars    later
                                                                             yellow flowers
ostrich eggshell they blame them                            the Bitchdick
You Gotta Put Down Plastic                                calls Nanos   scruffy
Or SUM Thin. Fuck. they say                                         puffs
aloud the high shelves dust currents
                                                  the first night alone    down there
                                                she shivers   a memory comes over
                                           for two hours   puts long purple marks
                                                  stretched across her breasts arms
                                                     back    they don’t last   she can’t
wipe the paint from the floor. Good!
Have The Maid Do It        i AM THE MAID
the Dick cries triumphantly
alone   in the kitchen   the plantains
charcoal coins     usless life


to believe in the future
is to live. we have to live
How Much Longer, the Baby

cries echo to the fabricated

villagers await the locusts sand
bags and mud bricks
then snow.                     in the
                            last scene the strangled
                            and the strangler
                         have the same expression.

two veins blup blup in foreheads.
one close to the eye s c r i b
ble pen    a family descends stairs.

everyone holding guns
is smiling. the walls aren’t designed
To Love, Bitch says, Is to—
                                               Is To

                                  I Don’t Know

YARROW YES WOODS is a maid and copywriter from Missouri. Their poems are available in Aurochs, Paintbucket, E·ratio, Thin Noon, DREGINALD, and others.