They told me you were extinct in the visitors center a little plaque with your name outside we gather under the overhang as you dole out oil lamps they say it was the way you flocked that made you so easy to hunt, I’d say it’s your nail polish in the middle of nowhere Kentucky, not the way you meander down the path, your curls lift long and settle a steady pace of a miners’ tune in your head ducked underground you scream consumption! Over and over again we pass the model homes for tuberculosis the echo of a crackpot idea against the walls dotted in soot not by painters but by tour guides blazing grasslands of the pastoral parakeet you told me the most interesting thing about consumption was not how romantic it’s become but how much it affected fashion your hand against your flashlight sparks a single can of Maxwell House coffee–historic trash–you say, they say one day they’ll resurrect you from this cave with a speck of DNA.
Amy Bobeda is a multidisciplinary poet & artist raised on the Amah Mutsun land of the Pajaro Valley. With a background in costume, wig, and makeup design, Amy’s work often focuses on textiles, the body, and the process of making/unmaking through the menstrual cycle. Amy is the author and artist behind Red Memory (Flowersong Press), What Bird Are You? (Finishing Line Press) and a Blood to Purify the World, (Spuyten Duyvil). Amy runs the Naropa Writing Center, and teaches pedagogy, process-based arts and gender studies. @everystoryisamenstrualstory on instagram!