December 31, 2016

Hanna Tawater

3.8 The Price

computer, override perfection, just give me
some fucking chocolate some
bad touching hair mussing just
get me a fucking chair to rest
my giant wormhole on I’m not me I’m
a gratuitous stretch in glittering spandex
a problem of ethics, just meaning in your sorry existence



5.11 Hero Moment

my bonds are stronger than, flesh, a single beam
I just need to know you’re there, feeling
I want to unfeel – you – into the other
a copy of a copy, reflections not consistent
I would even risk feeling if it meant I could taste
is it difficult to feel him moving away, becoming boy again



6.2 Realm of Fear

fluctuations in the ionostream I don’t want to discorporate
one person sync, this feeling, like mortal terror
deconstructed, stripped to the molecule, imprint of a microbe
reached out to touch me – billions bits of data – no margin
for errors, a preoccupation with my physiology
how am I both matter and energy? patterns, patterns



6.25 Timescape

cats are dangerous, but I won’t help you research interspecies
mating rituals, a cloaked distress call I could actually touch
plasma fields frozen the passing of time in rotting fruit
freeze frame mortality, we cannot change what’s already occurred
not native to this continuum, to this black hole
my embryonic chronometer cannot feel you passing through



7.3 Interface

in my VRs I’m not a cyborg, but my reflection’s still a probe
I need more power to interface with this dead man
in my VRs even fake fire burns me, so somatic responding to your danger
do you need comforting? I am just studying the poetry of a blank screen
you may experience this emptiness with me when was the last time
you saw your mother when was the last time your mother died



Hanna Tawater completed her MFA in writing, with an emphasis in poetry, at UC San Diego in 2014. Some of her work can be found in Dirty Chai, New Delta Review, White Stag, The Radvocate, States of Terror vols. 1 & 2, Black Candies: Gross and Unlikable, and Amor Forense: Birds in Shorts City – an anthology of border-region translations, as well as various online collaborative projects. She cohabitates in California with two cats, a snake, and a man.


Image: “Uhura”, by James F. Woglom.