Poetry
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The poem is not the words though the poem is made of words
by Hilary Sallick This morning a silver cat appeared outside my window its second visit in two daysIt stepped from the roofof my neighbor’s shedto the trunk of the mulberry where it clungagainst gravity raptby the nearness of a squirrel downward-hanging easyin its tree The catheld on and met those eyes with its ownThen the Continue reading
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Jaundice Baby
by Sukayna Davanzo Sunflowers but not their seeds. Sunsets, sunrises, the sun, some brands of suntan lotion. Bananas, vanilla cake, the inside of a mango. Melted butter, melted butter dripped over fried cauliflower, finished with a squeeze of lemon. Gold, hay, most corn, maybe wheat, pineapples. My favorite bottle of lemon-scented Lysol. The stereotypical rain Continue reading
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Aubade With First Responder
by Edward Lineberry Bernard takes us to the wrong hotelthe one without the homeless campthe one beyond pedestrian reach,but he resets with aplomb and finds Little Italy, our Christmasmorning home, the slim canyons beside the highway rendered chaste,free again of tents and their humancargo. No marine layer, no clouds:the San Diego sun scales the mesa,a Continue reading
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The Epitome of Marriage
by Ashley Kirkland My husband tells memy hair isn’t curly. It’s wavy. Says I don’tclean the house. I tidy. Like I’m some woodland creature in a cartoon. What’s weird is I clean constantly, curls swinging wildly downmy back. I wonder if this isn’t the epitomeof marriage after a decade(or flash, I can’t tell): saying the Continue reading
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Why I Call Myself “Feminist”
by Grace Lee Because we stared at the mirror througha fog of tears, pinching and pointingas the male gaze held us tightly in itssuffocating grasp like the dresses theysqueezed us into. Because feminismbecame the “F” word, inviting a chorusof jeers as it left our lips, forcing usinto painful silence, our lips lockedand the key thrown Continue reading
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Meanwhile, on the Other Side of the World
by Nina Forsythe Is this what it’s like?You go to work, make dinner,order new reeds for your clarinet,replenish the bird feeder,you hear worrisome newsfrom hundreds of miles awayand stock up on rice, toilet paper, coffee.And then one day, just as the cherry treesare coming into glorious bloom,the air is explodingand tanks are coming down your Continue reading
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Four years gone and I am still your mother,
by Ann Weil tracking time, crossingoff days— Mondays I washyour clean shirts, hang them on the line one by one they unpin, fly away, I hope they are homing pigeonsTuesdays I sweepunder your bedI am stillfinding your hairWednesdaysI sit on the rooflight a signal fireburn down the houseThursdays I buy binoculars, scan the blameless horizonFridays Continue reading
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Every Time I Write a Poem I Fail
by Alicia Hoffman Promised I’d quit if my desires, like a switch, clicked easily off. Once, under the bright lights of Westminster, I walked lightly over stones and maybe I sacrificed nothing but the sacrament. Transformation was what I was after. Promised myself my poem would be vast. Definitely not superficial. Not coy. No clever Continue reading
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Which Muslims Do You Write For?
by Elizabeth Shanaz The ones tired of performing / The ones with tattoos and piercings and cuss words’ fragrance on their tongues / The ones who are nearly hafiz / The ones who still have to look up the steps for namaz / The ones sick and tired of that masjid Attitude Aunty / The Continue reading
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The Question
by Karen Bramblett The Caribbean’s azure handsgather moisture, pour waterover the mountains where it tumblesdown in a rocky river to the steel bridgeat Boquete’s center. On the west side,the Caldera River is flankedby tall-spined grass and adobe homes with open balconies. To the east, half-brown blades flop overbefore a fenced-in, manicured lawnand asphalt path.From the Continue reading
January House Literary Journal 