Displaced Monarchs — Brigittine French — Fall 2025

False bird of paradise by Jim Ross

Displaced Monarchs

Brigittine French

 

Home, wings whisper
in an unknown language of
            the color orange
its phonology made of
                       petals opening
its syntax arranged by
                       worms in the soil
                       and in the soul

Weeds, dead grandfathers insist
they ordered
sons and
             sons-in-law
                         and dim-witted neighbor men
who needed the meager pay
to pull hearty stalks
           bleeding milky white
it was of no consequence to them
a minor irritation
like a sliver in the finger or
                       a child petting cats
during chore time

Progress, daughters say
we promise ourselves
                                     uncalloused hands
                          confident with corn knives
                          among even bean rows
hacking is better than pulling
                                     chemicals are best
                                     the hose is dainty
and the pink stain
makes the venom festive

cosmopolitan granddaughters
                        know nothing
of dead grandfathers’ merciless theories
                        know nothing
of daughters who fled,
we, farmers’ daughters who became their mothers,
with certitude that books
                                                dates
                                                and equality
would keep us from misery
we could see, yet not name

these granddaughters are the ones
who can learn to
                                      conjugate
in this unrecognized sunset tongue
How will they understand a language they do not yet speak?
the idiom
                       is carried
                       on wings of long displaced rulers
whose green palaces survive
as remnants
                        in the wildest spaces
             men forget to destroy
its semantics will form
in dreams
that come from the wives
of the grandfathers
            our grandmothers
                        whose voices are louder
                        in death than in life

 

 

Brigittine French is an anthropologist, a third-generation Iowan, and author of three books (UArizona Press 2010; Routledge 2018; Rutgers U Press 2020). Her writing has appeared in Ms.com, Salon.com, and Lyrical Iowa.

Jim Ross jumped into creative pursuits in 2015 after rewarding career in public health research. With graduate degree from Howard University, in ten years he’s published nonfiction, fiction, poetry, photography, hybrid, interviews, and plays in 200+ journals on five continents. Photo publications include Alchemy Spoon, Barnstorm, Burningword, Camas, Feral, Invisible City, Orion, Phoebe, and Stonecoast. Photo-essays include DASH, Kestrel, Litro, NWW, Pilgrimage, Sweet, Typehouse. His most recent interview, published by Terrain.org, was conducted with an artist. A Best of the Net nominee in nonfiction and art, he also wrote/acted in a one-act play and appeared in a documentary limited series broadcast internationally. Jim’s family splits time between city and mountains.

 

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