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The Mythology of Hunting

By Louise Mather

We lie on the grass,

I'm bleeding so you use me for bait.

I want to cascade myself to a goblet

but I am made of sawtooth grapefruit,

singed petals, knots, decomposing tissue.

I dig my nails into the sand,

you have hooks and gristly maggots

and you have already licked the scent

from the back of my neck,

even if I tried to run,

which I don't anymore –

I just lie and wait

holding clumps of earth,

already descending

into the underworld

where goddesses

know of all despair –

how to be worshipped,

and scribed into stars –

the sky darkens,

I look into it, waiting for it to fall,

and I think about killing you

with your hunting knife

and stitching you to a net

for the ocean,

or hanging us from the tree

where the oldest roots plummet

to myth.


Louise Mather is a writer from Northern England and founding editor of Acropolis Journal. Nominated Best of the Net 2021, and a finalist in the Streetcake Poetry Prize, her work is published in various print and online literary journals. Her debut pamphlet ‘The Dredging of Rituals’ is out with Alien Buddha Press, 2021. She writes about ancestry, rituals, endometriosis, fatigue and mental health. She can be found on Twitter.


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