What was the beat in my mother's brain when she beat me—not a metronome— not the mud thump of a march, nothing like a dirge. No, I think when she flamed the whip, she winged a Hendrix solo. Rock-star mommy, red-lipped maestro of an electric age, slim-hipped genius of bite and longing, violet-eyed siren of slash and response— daily, I was her wah wah pedal, her feedback, her Oh Say Can You See, her conjuring fingers turning the whole hot spotlight of the world in our direction. From the round mouth of every speaker, a Stratacaster howl, a static shatter, mortar and Napalm, land of the free, home of the brave, my flag still there.
Dion O'Reilly’s early years were spent on an isolated family compound, subject to the whims of a culty, psychopathic parent. Her debut collection, Ghost Dogs, was runner-up for The Catamaran Prize and shortlisted for The Eric Hoffer Award. Her second book, Sadness of the Apex Predator, will be published by University of Wisconsin's Cornerstone Press in 2024. Her work appears in The Bellingham Review, The Sun, Rattle, Narrative, The Slowdown, and elsewhere. She facilitates private workshops, hosts a podcast at The Hive Poetry Collective, and is a reader for Catamaran Literary Quarterly. She splits her time between a ranch in the Santa Cruz Mountains and a residence in Bellingham, Washington.
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