Voice Lessons
At forty, I hired a vocal coach.
My husband had taken a new
friend—he swore it was platonic,
her name unimportant.
Prompt Poem of the Month
Where Does a Person with Aphantasia Dream of Going?
My son asks me how can I run the same
mile-long loops through the woods every day
and not be bored and I tell him it’s different—
every time.
Picnic
Ghazals have always struck me as a literary picnic—a checkerboard blanket brimming with many different dishes composed of unique couplets. This modified, collaborative ghazal, with its ‘No-Thing-ness’ whimsicality served up alongside more serious stanzas, unpacks a memorable conversation for us all under the summer afternoon sun.
Credit
As son
& mother.
Welfare.
State surplus
peanut butter,
cheese, & smiles
for Mr. Sullivan’s
monthly inspection
to certify our poverty.
The Wedding Doll
She boxed me—saving me, she said, for the wedding.
She shall be my centerpiece, stand next to the cake.
That was when she was twelve.
The ‘L’ Word
plucking my eyebrows
he likes me
he likes me not
chocolate fondue
double-dipping
the banana
their candy hearts —
I swallow more
sweet nothings
a single boa feather
floats in the coffee —
the morning after