At sixth grade nature camp, we play predator / prey. Spin the bottle, but with claws and
teeth. Herbivore. Omnivore. Carnivore The girls line up, count off, and run into the woods. I
slice my thigh on a fence and hide inside a tipped canoe. Even the skinny girls break
their wrists. Their hearts, their skinny necks in the river. In the rain, any girl can look
like prey. It's easy to mistake the hunters for the hunted. One of the carnivores offers his
protection if I raise up my shirt and so we wait safe til the game is over. Till all the girls
return limping, bloodied to the field.
A writer and book artist working in both text and image, Kristy Bowen is the author of a number of chapbook, zine, and artist book projects, as well as several full-length collections of poetry/prose/hybrid work, including SALVAGE (Black Lawrence Press, 2016) and MAJOR CHARACTERS IN MINOR FILMS (Sundress Publications, 2015). She lives in Chicago, where she runs dancing girl press and studio.