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Poetry

Choosing

  1. The blood of God I seal inside a box with lock and key.
  2. Too, in that box, a bite of flesh I’m hoarding just for me.
  3. I treasure them with heart and mind, more than my flesh and blood.
  4. And when I choose between the two, I choose with echoed thud.
  5. I’ve bathed myself and purged my soul with treasures set ablaze:
  6. A cross, a clasp, a point, a drop, with power did amaze.
  7. The flames had turned my family bond to charcoal and to ash.
  8. The water drowned my seed and theirs; they vanished with my splash.
  9. My golden trump, with boldened blast, the rainbow did erase.
  10. My em’rald shield, with swipes and blows, pink, purple, blue defaced.
  11. My coat of skins, with heightened strength, had smothered black and white.
  12. And while they gasp, I scream, “Me! Me! Oh, hey, all look at I!”

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By Kim Siever

I live in Lethbridge with my spouse and 5 of our 6 children. I’m a writer, focusing on political news, social issues, and the occasional poem. My politics are radically left. I recently finished writing a book debunking several capitalism myths. My newest book writing project is on the labour history of Lethbridge.

I’m also dichotomally Mormon. And I’m a functional vegetarian: I have a blog post about that somewhere around here. My pronouns are he/him, and I’m queer.

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