Poetry, Week 29: Susan L. Leary

Today fuck these people fuck these guards fuck this building
fuck this food fuck these clothes

I comb the pages for a good line. I comb the pages
for meaning & metaphor, for grammar & proper structure.
I comb for a mind capable of following the rules. I comb
for useable material. & what is a good line? What is proper
structure when I cannot attest to the virtuousness
of those who first invented these rules because I follow
the rules. I am all formality & I have achieved very little.
Fuck grammar. Fuck proper spelling. Fuck the stripped-
down, bare-bones version of anger that announces itself
unmetaphorically. Because fuck. Fuck a good line. Fuck
good. Fuck precisely the place within me that thinks
what’s written is not enough. Fuck not enough. Fuck grammar.
& say it again: say incantation, say rhythm, say protest,
because what does exasperation mean when the source of it
means absolutely nothing? I pass to others what my brother
passes again & again from his mouth into mine with nothing
but a sheet of paper. & fuck me—fuck me as ungrateful audience,
fuck me trying to liken my brother’s language to something
else to make it clearer. It’s already clear.

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Susan L. Leary is the author of six poetry collections, including SENTENCE (Nine Syllables Press, fall 2026), selected by Eugenia Leigh to win the Nine Syllables Press Chapbook Contest; More Flowers (Trio House Press, 2026); and Dressing the Bear (Trio House Press, 2024), selected by Kimberly Blaeser to win the Louise Bogan Award. Her poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in such places as North American Review, Indiana Review, Cream City Review, Third Coast, and Verse Daily. She holds an MFA from the University of Miami and lives in Indianapolis, IN.