Welcome to the garden. Here we poison our fruits, pierce ourselves with thorns, and transform under the light of the full moon. Mad and unhinged, we fall through rabbit holes, walk willingly into fairy rings, and dance in the song of witchcraft, two snakes around our ankles, the juice of berries on our tongues. Inspired by Shirley Jackson's We Have Always Lived in the Castle, these poems are meditations on female rage, postpartum...