Truth
Anna Catone - { Histories }
Janlori Goldman - { Bachelard's Cabinet } { The Jewish Gauchos of Entre Rios, 1917 }{ One Good Turn }
Elizabeth Howort - { The Sun, That Great Magician }
Sam Abbott - { It Eats You }
Rachel M. Simon - { Seizure } { Title IX }{ Hometown }{ Swish }
Untruth
Rosa C. Li - { Lucky Elephant }
Ken Cormier - { A Day in the Life of a Conversationalist }
Juan Carlos Reyes - { A War for Rigoberto Chismón }
Rachel M. Simon - { After Life }
We Don't Know and They
Won't Tell Us
Rebecca Keith - { Excerpt from Misdirected Postcard, One }
T.M. De Vos - { Leaving Lake Baikal }
Kamilah Aisha Moon - { Going Under } { Don't Move This Dust }{ Burn }{ After Our Daughter's Autism Diagnosis }
| Going Under by Kamilah Aisha Moon |
“I remember clearly, all those years ago, that my friends onshore didn’t understand what was happening to me. They thought I was laughing, but I was screaming...they thought I was playing in the surf, but I was trying desperately to keep from drowning. No clue. They just smiled at me and waved.”
– Desiree Simons
A way to drown on land
is to flood the veins
with sugar & salt until
elephantine ankles
can't lumber another step,
& yes, like Lot's wife, looking back
will do it, looking back until
you lose all color & crumble,
dissolve into the human sea.
Only you will know what
happened, & the death
certificate will lie, blame
some organ's failure.
Your frantic hands will be
misconstrued, lampooned.
Your hungers smothered
in broth that might make
someone else strong someday.
The marooned on rafts
must sip the poison
keeping them afloat, pray
for rescue. What's your
excuse, feet flat
upon earth, flailing
inside your eyes? But they
don't see, don't notice
when it begins or ends.
We all leak, that's not
a clear sign. So what
you've learned not all shores
are solid, not all breathing
is living. These waves knock
us all about, down.
No two drownings
look alike. & drops,
well-timed and well-placed
may cause edema
of the soul.
Shaking their heads, they'll say
you no longer look like yourself,
even after seeing you
every distended day, bloated hour.
They passed you by often & still
didn't know--swearing that, when mouthed,
the words look the same,
help and hello
