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Murmuration + It'll Be Different This Time

Poetry, Jordan Nishkian


In the silence of what's left

my heart calls forth

a murmuration

of nerves, muscles, bones

that carry me—

bypassing sharpened tongue

and a voice hot with ire—

lifting me

light as a feather

light as a feather

light as a feather

light s a feat er

li ht s a feat r

li ht s a fe t r

li t s fe r

li s fe r

li fe



It'll Be Different This Time

We share a history

of watching sitcom repeats,

of hearing a song loop into itself,

of rewearing old fashions until

it's time to discard them from damage.

It's hard to know when things are done,

except when we meet them again, re-done.

We share a search history:

one that auto-fills common trends, news, damage

—click, refresh, repeat—

we don't go past the first page, we scroll until

the answer we want reveals itself,

shows itself, proves itself

a part of the library of convenience—the search is done.

How long until

knowledge isn't coterminous with wisdom? Till history

books are revised without fear? Repeat

these words: We must overcome our damage,

not hide our damage,

lest oppression unveils itself

(once again) in the repeats

of evils already done.

Our history

consists more of repetition than revolution. Until

we accept each other, until

we embrace true change,

we are bound to a history

of violence, a human race ending itself—

What have we done?

It repeats

repeats, repeats,

repeats until

it's all finished, too far gone, done.


wears a cunning disguise. It hides itself

deep inside a malevolent history,

a history that repeats

itself until

the damage is done.


Jordan Nishkian is an Armenian-Portuguese writer based in California. Her prose and poetry explore themes of duality and have been featured in national and international publications. She is the Editor-in-Chief of Mythos literary magazine and author of Kindred, a novella. Check out her website


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