the other bodies want to know
what we call ourself,
and I don’t know how to explain there is
no We here,
no Our.
so I say absence.
sometimes.
becoming the body by kit tempo (2019)
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When I tell you what I am,
I am only babbling in toddler talk;
embarrassment to my body
who has never questioned what it was:
alive. and then not.
becoming the body by kit tempo (2019)
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how dare you.
hold them in the same claws,
unfiled, still braiding bellies deftly,
leaving us loose enough for the art to leak out,
but never the blaming
motherdyke converses with rape by kit tempo (2019)
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after all isn’t it true?
that you are 3/4 invader.
and If that is the bloodline seen by the world,
is it the bloodline that won?
bloodcolour by kit tempo (2019)
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you stop wondering why your mother never identified as Canadian
when the first time you hear about chattel slavery in this country was in third year university.
when you don’t know most of where you came from,
you can’t let go of the land your body can recall.
bloodcolour by kit tempo (2019)
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the seams of our ribs
may not align perfectly,
but I see all the ways their bones hold them up.
I don’t need language to witness how they’ve built themself
whichever gods are watching by kit tempo (2019)
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my love becomes loud
in a way you can’t scream.
only taste.
only wash down.
taurus season by kit tempo (2019)
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beg me to wrap this
new lovers dough-skin
around my bread-knife teeth.
knead it out with my tongue.
taurus season by kit tempo (2019)
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make a heist of my soul,
something abrupt and deserved:
there is something about gold
that hurts to touch.
we think there is something good
about hurting to touch.
to fuse by kit tempo (2019)
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The evolution of a building
can be seen in it’s masonry.
Which brick did you break to make
the window in your bedroom?
to fuse by kit tempo (2019)
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tell the kids not to talk to strangers like me,
that I will eat them alive
to fill my own bread belly,
insatiable victim-becomes-monster
but we both know that you’re the one with the appetite for baby pictures.
you cannot stop me from trying to keep them safe.
motherdyke converses with rape by kit tempo (2019)
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taking these bad boys to CFSW with me, hmu if you want one! 15-20$ sliding scale, shipping free in canada!
yall ever Yearn? I got u covered in this one. $15-20 sliding scale or pwyc. gonna bring this bad boy to CFSW and willing to ship for free within canada to boot so hmu.
poetry // poet
[they]
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Update
Hey babes! Sorry for being MIA, I’ve been prepping like mad to go with the Vancouver Slam Poetry team to the Canadian Festival of Spoken Word. I leave tomorrow! (holy shit!)
I still have 2 chapbooks for sale, both of which I’m bringing to CFSW. I’m happy to ship free within canada. Like Falling (the ghost girlfriends chapbook) is 10-15$ sliding scale, Hypomanic Girlcrush is 15-20$ sliding scale.
DM me if you want in on them and otherwise, I’ll be queueing up some of my favourite quotes from my works for this site because I kinda took everything else down.
Feel free to follow me on instagram @kittempo and on twitter @kit_tempo if you wanna keep up on what goes down at CFSW! I’m also gonna go see my friends Bicurious George (bigcruiogorge on instagram) Nisha Patel’s (anothernisha on instagram) feature at Toronto Slam tomorrow night, so you’ll get some shameless promotion for them too!
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yall ever Yearn? I got u covered in this one. $15-20 sliding scale or pwyc. gonna bring this bad boy to CFSW and willing to ship for free within canada to boot so hmu.
poetry // poet
[they]
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hey yall! send me poetry prompts on anon, I’ll write u a thing!
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when the trauma unmakes me
at the end of the summertime,
(the sun always makes me worse),
I will forget any word
that doesn't mean "burning",
and you will kick the duvet off the end
of the bed
untitled excerpt by kit tempo (2019)
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We are still so young;
I am not convinced we will ever be old,
just grow until we can parent
the traumatized children within us.
When your tall 5'10" body needs to be held
like a third grader who is already learning
that Mother's touch is not always loving,
put your head on my chest and don't apologize.
I will not touch your hair
until you tell me that it comforts you,
and then, still,
not until you ask
untitled excerpt by kit tempo (2019)
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