8. 5. 2023


Yaz Lancaster

Like a gun, the nozzle 
was pressed firmly to his scalp.
My heart beat quickly then
eased upon seeing the water
dripping thru black curls. I
was listening to a song 
that went could you forgive
me for that pain?
& went
wild replaying like a film all
the pain again. I kept 
my head down & pushed
the weight up. I consumed
sad things to keep myself
sad. I paid the tax to leave
the house. The moment 
I wiped my back it only made
more sweat. Esteban told me
I haven’t seen blue today
when the sky wasn’t blue.
The birds had been flying
low, missiling around
chest height. I helped 
the older woman take a photo
of the moon & the orange
smoke. When things were
rotten I invented newer things
to get upset over. & then did.
I paid the tax for living. I kept
my head down & kept keeping
it down & pushing upwards.
I wanted to tell you all the things
I didn’t know & then didn’t.
I got caught in the downpour
& let the water soak thru 
my socks & everything else.

Yaz Lancaster (they/them) is an Aquarius stellium & Black transdisciplinary artist most interested in relational aesthetics, fragments, & liberatory politics. Their work is situated in a queer, DIY ethos & presented in many different mediums/genres. They live in Lenapehoking (NYC); and they enjoy powerlifting, anime/manga, and chess. More at yaz-lancaster.com.

Listen to Yaz read “Wildfires” here: