Ginger Ko
Not Every People Has Had a Sailor


The virus of

want and debt

eventually sought

glue and boards.

It was a kind of

time when nothing

was forgotten.

And when pushed

into water, they

did not scream

or struggle but

simply shuddered

and shut down.

They were

never alone.

There was so much

salt at the shores

that the walls

rose to the skies.

We were only

allowed to watch

videos of other

animals, the sexless

bodies tending their

young before trotting

to their deaths

off-screen. I hardly

knew about the bare

breasts of primates.

Instead my flesh

pounded until I was

a glossy black pool.

Fathomless, without

skin the air could

lift me.

We don’t give offense.

            We take it.

So how 

do we take it.

Necessarily wrest it.

Is the program faulty.

The input. Types

of meaningless input:

He didn’t mean to do it.

        He didn’t intend to make you feel bad. 

    He would never try to harm you.

 Eventually we

carry the smaller 

automatons into our

privacies, companions

to our jut and recoil

in the dark.

When finished we

walk naked to

our small audience

and press POWER.

Our skins glow

like desert rocks

from the startup lights.

Found In Volume 46, No. 04
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Ginger Ko
About the Author

Ginger Ko is an Assistant Professor at Sam Houston State University's MFA program in Creative Writing, Editing, and Publishing. She is the author of Motherlover (Bloof Books) and Inherit (Sidebrow).