LOUDSPEAKER:: "Occupath", a poem by Hannah Neal

Screen Shot 2018-12-13 at 10.08.26 AM.png

WUSSY is proud to present poetry by Atlanta writer, Hannah Neal. 
If you would like to send in a writing submission, please contact 
Nicholas Goodly


I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven. Hell of a friend.

Starry-eyed entrance, brimming with social contracts from dead men.

Jane Doe, you come and go from the prison inside your head

Sartre insisted insanity is the worthwhile pursuit of sameness

for all my friends who are famous.

(When I met them

each power-dripping steeze of speech

crash-of-gavel laugh proved

more titillating than wisdom’s grown

mold in the basement

of a safe house-turned-movie set)

She had me tied for a minute

swollen like a voodoo doll, pinned like a prick

while giant steps on city streets paced the fault lines of my skull

with roses, revolution

it lives, it lifts.

And so I let it peel open the lid

lower itself in, at feet first dangling

as I am

hung by another man, absent.

Hannah Neal is a landlocked pirate, which is probably why she's already listened to the song "Sanity or Not" by Juan Wauters three times today. When she isn't practicing hexes on exes, she is dutifully preparing for the apocalypse. Hannah is partial founder of Feedback Poetry Collective and mostly self-publishes, though her poetry has appeared in other Atlanta-based publications such as Dope Girls, Floromancy, and the billboards inside of her dreams.