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Spring 2000 - Volume 22, Number 2
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Name
It was never yours to begin with.
It came from a whisper, an utterance
in the moment of panic, pain, love,
when your mother and father met you
and marked you as theirs. Your body,
glistening with blood, and you, wailing
from the pain of oxygen, were folded
into a word to be carried in the throat
of everyone but you. Later, you had to learn it:
mouth, lips, mind bent to fit around its vowels
and consonants, then tucked in the fold
in the back of your tongue rubbing you raw,
begging to be pushed out. You kept it
and now you love it. But listen, my mother
was named three times before she was two.
You need to rip it out. You may need scissors,
a scalpel, alcohol, but you must rip it out.
Ignore the clean bite rushing to call it back,
ignore the sharp cold of the loss of the cord,
ignore the hot liquid need to cry, and breathe anew.
-By Sudeep Sharma
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| Calendar |
Poetry and Prose Deadline!
Thu 10.30 // 05:00pm //
Please have your poetry and prose submitted to us by this date.
Art Deadline!
Sat 11.15 // 05:00pm //
Please have all art submissions to us by this date.
View the Calendar... |
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