Qavak Songs over at Qarrtsiluni

I am blown away by these. I mean, just still almost shaking to read them. How can something sound both so utterly strange and so deeply familiar? “My cunt drips,/ wet as a walrus snout.” is just hilariously spot-on and bad-ass. And listen to the magic in this: “My son, the man I made myself.” I mean damn.

I want to read them a million times, but I don’t want them to become so known to me that they lose their magic, you know?