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Autumn 2012

Three Poems

Woman to Pink Rose I know that you bloomed by the petals on my doorstep. I was thinking that my paycheck wouldn’t fix the car. I thought it day after day, and missed everything.   Pink Rose to Bee For you I unfold myself in layers. For you, for you I open. For you I [...]

Under The Chestnuts

Soaring into the cobalt sky, Yamo’s basketball eclipses a huge harvest moon before crashing down through a chestnut tree. Spiky burrs, loosened by the circular assault, drop past Fay’s head. “Yamo,” she shrills. Such wicked, carefree laughter sprays from the boy. She’d willingly be pricked – pelted even – all night. Mother and son aim [...]

 Part 1 Winter ice and slippers. Instability on the black driveway. Well, there’s a reason they call them slippers. Slippery bed slippers. She should be slipping into bed. Or, determined as she was, she should have put on the boots. Even with having to sit down and bend and the shortness of breath and the [...]

Each girl slings a basket on her elbow. Hollow crates dangle like unlit chandeliers. They get the heavy stuff first, full gallons of skim milk, and pace the aisles, trying to burn as much as they collect. They select the oldest ones, the overpicked, those that will spoil first. Each arm is the untested girder [...]

Parataxis

  Meg Matich is a student in Columbia University’s MFA– Poetry and Literary Translation program, where she focuses on German translation and delves into Slovak translation. Her first chapbook, “The Litter of the Rose Leaves” is forthcoming from Dancing Girl Press, 2013.  

Devoted

You have the urge to pee during the Forty Hours Devotion. Think of something else, your mother would say, were she there, but the non-believer never comes to church. Church is your father’s department. He can’t cross with you into the girls’ room, so don’t bother tugging at his coat. Instead, bite your lip. The inside [...]

Limbo

Now that I am older, I play my part as though it mattered a little more. It doesn’t work of course. It never worked, though I have dreamed myself into all kinds of places, for example out west in a harmless looking farmhouse, grey lichen, black ivy, overgrown garden, and still up that path they [...]