“Girlhood” and “Southern Charm”


The first day I was a girl was in my backyard with my brother picking up brush to burn in a pile and my dad said I had to put a shirt on that summer even though it was hot and my brother was shirtless and I was six or seven and helping clean up the backyard and it was a wooded lot down a long gravel drive and there was nobody to see it but I was a girl in that heat and always would be.

Southern Charm

So you’re buying concealer,
Plan B, and a ginger ale and are nearly thirty,
and the CVS cashier who smiled at the man
ahead of you buying adult diapers
clutches her lanyard. To be a woman
in Charleston is expensive in ways
you weren’t prepared for. There are men
who will pay for everything
but the morning. So you said I love you
into the seventh glass of dry wine,
as the hurricane declared your street
a river. What the hangover says is slow.
The hickey you’re too old for sighs,
You’ve got enough light with the shades drawn.

Quick Change

There is body in the coat closet in the hall by the front door, body under the bed in plastic bins, a pile in the garage by the recycling bin.

Two Micros by Stefania Gomez

She holds the coins to my weeping willow face / and shows how I will change their shape, / how they will flatten under freight.