​​H E R M E N E U T I C   C H A O S   J O U R N A L

ariana d. den bleyker



There's a Full Moon Tonight


​Resist, for the night thanks no one.                                       I’m hungry. I want to kiss him. 
Even in silence the moon speaks—                                  Listen. He pulls you—wants you—
Make love to him.                                                       Silent, sentinel witness. Let him pull

He is his own god and yours, the god entering                       a body, your body: let him take 
you, let him lift you up, let him consume—                    you. Satisfy. I want and take nothing
This is. This is to be. Howl.                                                  The moon hints at what’s real— 

You’re what’s real—a little haunted—                       & sweetly pained, steeped in his words, 
not looking back. The night recedes—            scarred by the rain pressing between your lips— 
against eyelashes, split / boundaries, things                    You both notice as if you just came,

to see—know each other as you really are —      your soft breaths breathed in again & again. 

                                                            It’s you.
                                           You that pedals into that darkness.







Sitting in the Surgical Waiting Room

​on the Morning of My Hysterectomy 


​I splay my fingers hard 
against my pubic bone, close 
my eyes, feel the gravity hidden 
deep inside my saddle, maneuvering, 
like a bird whose touching has no choice,
touches back. My hand falls away. 
I have all but forgotten loss; 
misplaced the weight of grieving.
I picture my womb breathe out 
one last time from the throat of my legs,
the pain imagined only coming later
with the body, through a word 
she, I, cannot utter, both of us only 
waiting until the guillotine falls 
in the vast silence.






Ariana D. Den Bleyker is Pittsburgh native currently residing in Upstate New York, a wife, mother of two, a writer and an editor. When she's not editing, or writing, she spends time with her family and every once in a while sleep. She is the author of several poetry chapbooks, Forgetting Aesop, Naked Animal, My Father Had a Daughter, Hatched from Bone, and Birds Never Sing in Caves, micro-chapbooks, Coming of Age, Stitches and Strangest Sea, collections, The Trees are on Fire, Geometry of Broken Parts and Wayward Lines, the novelette, Finger : Knuckle : Palm and the experimental memoir, prosthesis. She the founder of the small press ELJ Publications, a small press with big things to offer, and Editor-in-Chief of Emerge Literary Journal, scissors & spackle, The J.J. Outre Review, Wild Horses and Turn : Turn : Turn. She can be found at www.arianaddenbleyker.com.