we sing sliding along arpeggios stringing out the sounds
the rhythm of our heartbeats in time to the music
we chant beginning with O like the chorister and the lesbian the howl of the wolf woman and her companion lovers
We don masks of black gold silver white and splashes of colour we disguise the extrovert
the streets are filled with crowds everyone disguised and in our new personae we explore the wilds of our emotions here are bridal pairs exchanging vows mid-canal with grappa in coloured Venetian glasses
carnivale is here the crowds could be from any time a
medieval feast a painting by Bosch or Carpaccio jugglers
and joglaresas stand side by side the one throwing balls
the other tossing notes into the cold air pigeons play
shadow games
children roll hoops or spin on knife-thin blades the
tarot reader spins her own stories unravelling the future
from the past a Norn crouches in an archway
the Queen of Hearts the Queen of Hearts she follows the
thread into the palazzo unravels the tapestry unravels
her life casting it off all for the Queen of Hearts
back in the streets the crowd moves like a symphony here
come the unicyclists and a caravanserai of elephants
lions seals and women who fly without fear
they are like some forgotten circus troupe telling tearful
tales Aesop’s animals standing one atop the other until
sunrise and the highest crows the morning’s welcome
along the waterways come gondoliers as silent as shadow
puppets in a gamelan orchestra decked in their finery
strange footwear covering webbed feet the drummers
join the throng beating out the heart’s rhythm aerialists
spin from webs their bodies clump and open spiralling
in a dizzying dervish dance
and death too crawls by selecting victims at random is
your number up? have you met your shadow head on?
the dancers the celibates the poets the tree climbers
the hand surgeons the teachers the sybils the artists the
revellers the lovers are all here
we fling ourselves toward the finale all whistling all
drumming all singing a great chorale of voices and bodies
swirling swaying spinning flying
we revel until dawn when the sun rises once again over
the sea mirror-like creating time spilling us into our days
where we create new worlds and survive this one
–Carnivale by Susan Hawthorne, April 1997-April 2005, from The Butterfly Effect*
Welcome to the Carnival of Radical Feminists home page!
As each carnival is posted, I’ll post the link here. That way, information about all of our carnivals — an amazing resource! — will be available in one central location.
–Heart, Women’s Space/The Margins♥
*Susan Hawthorne is a poet, novelist, aerialist, academic, activist and publisher. She co-founded Spinifex Press with Renate Klein fifteen years ago and works as a Research Associate at Victoria University. She came across the Women’s Space/The Margins blog and noticed the Carnival of Radical Feminists and offered this poem to us to use, with her permission. Thank you, Susan!
