Panika M. C. Dillon

make way for the apostles—the sad little centers of the universe

in primped plosives, Cybele is 
      the grenade in 

            the grenadine unpinned backstage—
‍ ‍you rang? / nothing good 


ever started with a bang / saints
      rotten as apples in 

            the barrel of a police station—
                  rotten to their cores 


the apostles swore, Cybele 
‍ ‍is as incendiary

‍ ‍as any Eve, she’s a whore / laurel 
                wreaths shackle her feet 


to the Tree of Knowledge / gun powder
       is pressed into her pleats, 

              ink ironed into her spine to 
                    anchor gospels in 


an hourglass / she’s not the cherry 
      on a mall map or the site 

             of a first kiss / there are only 
                   a dozen eggs to split 


a pitcher with / the apostles 
      sharpen their knives to eat 

             her alive, to carve a womb from 
‍ ‍tomb / for the encore, 


Cybele pulls herself  up by 
      her infinite red 

            garters & wishes on a star 
                  to be more than / she’s not 


a bombshell blonde, but a hollow 
      boom nonetheless / hallowed 

            be her name from cradle to grave / 
                  the apostles forced 


Cybele to bring you into 
      this world—don’t tempt her to 

            take you out / she’s the machine who 
                  weaponized us—turned all 


to awl / she’s the end of the world 
      as we know it


exit through the front teeth

after the February 2024 report from the UN’s Human Rights Commission 
on the IDF’s treatment of detainees from Gaza

a box is a box          until you 

   put women in it          add 


pouring rain          only then is it 

   a cage          enter trapdoor


with a front row seat          to torture 

   enter systemic rape


on your dinner theater plate          mouths 

   frozen in laughter caught 


on tape           on a tongue rests a scream 

   which will never escape


“‘make way for the apostles--the sad little centers of the universe’ was inspired by the tarot card ‘The World’ which is depicted as a woman with red ribbons. While it has gone through many revisions including a concrete poem and a play before settling into its current form, it was always a conversation between the world as a woman and those who seek to control or obliterate her. About ‘exit through the front teeth’: I strongly recommend everyone read the UNHRC’s February 2024 report.” —Panika M. C. Dillon


Panika M. C. Dillon’s upcoming publications include Prairie Schooner, One Page Poetry, Casting Aspersions and others. She won the 2024 Bedford Competition for Poetry and placed second for the 2024 Vivian Shipley Poetry Prize. She received her MFA in creative-writing poetry from Sarah Lawrence College. She is a legislative reporter at the Texas Capitol, major medical foster for Austin Pets Alive!, and volunteer staff crew leader at the Kerrville Folk Festival.

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