Close Menu
  • Home
    • About
    • Masthead
    • Links
  • MER Journal
    • Latest Issue
    • Back Issues
    • Subscribe to MER!
  • MER ONLINE
    • MER Quarterly
    • MER Literary Folios
    • Poetry
    • Fiction
    • Creative Prose
    • Essay
    • Craft
    • Interviews
    • Book Reviews
      • Bookshelf
    • Authors’ Notes
    • Art Gallery
      • Special – Hybrids
  • News & Events
    • News
    • Poem of the Month
    • Events
      • MER 18 Virtual Reading – Voices From HOME
    • Currents
      • Announcements
      • Highlights
  • Shop
    • All Issues
    • One Year Subscription
    • Two Year Subscription
  • Submit
Facebook X (Twitter) Instagram
MER – Mom Egg Review
Facebook X (Twitter) Instagram YouTube Tumblr Threads
  • Home
    • About
    • Masthead
    • Links
  • MER Journal
    • Latest Issue
    • Back Issues
    • Subscribe to MER!
  • MER ONLINE
    • MER Quarterly
    • MER Literary Folios
    • Poetry
    • Fiction
    • Creative Prose
    • Essay
    • Craft
    • Interviews
    • Book Reviews
      • Bookshelf
    • Authors’ Notes
    • Art Gallery
      • Special – Hybrids
  • News & Events
    • News
    • Poem of the Month
    • Events
      • MER 18 Virtual Reading – Voices From HOME
    • Currents
      • Announcements
      • Highlights
  • Shop
    • All Issues
    • One Year Subscription
    • Two Year Subscription
  • Submit
NEWSLETTER
MER – Mom Egg Review
You are at:Home » MER Poem of the Month – November 2025

MER Poem of the Month – November 2025

0
By Mom Egg Review on November 1, 2025 Poem of the Month, Poetry

Brenda Cárdenas

WHAT A MOLCAJETE HOLDS

 

 

Despite my drawers full of knives and spoons,
cutting boards, spatulas, ceramic ramekins,
when I blend spices, I must place them in her
molcajete, press the three-generation pestle
against cloves to shatter them, grind cominos
y ajo in the same circular motion as the tides
that softened stones fused to form its mortar.
I fold my right hand over hers and hers and hers,
their wrinkles a reminder that the skin is now
loosening from my carpal bones, every piece of me
pulled toward Earth. Although she stands behind
me, and another behind her, and another,
our shadows osculate on the tile floor, skin smoothed
in silhouette, coffee-colored heads blocking light.
We have always stood on the verge of fracture,
voices flitting like wings away from seams between
the stones tight in our palms. But hummingbirds
feast every ten minutes, so we crush the flavors
into our membranes, feed one another.

 

Brenda Cárdenas has authored Trace (Red Hen Press), winner of the 2023 Society of Midland Authors Award for Poetry and silver winner of Foreword Review’s Indie Poetry Prize; Boomerang (Bilingual Press); and three chapbooks. She also co-edited Resist Much/Obey Little: Inaugural Poems to the Resistance and Between the Heart and the Land: Latina Poets in the Midwest. Cárdenas is the 2025-2027 Wisconsin Poet Laureate and is Professor Emerita of English at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee.

Share. Facebook Twitter Pinterest LinkedIn Tumblr Email
Previous ArticleAuthor’s Note: Marjorie Maddox on Seeing Things
Next Article Art Submissions Open Until 12/1/25

Comments are closed.

January 25, 2026

Causa Sui by Elizabeth Knapp

January 20, 2026

Poem of the Month – January 2026

January 20, 2026

MER Bookshelf – January 2026

January 13, 2026

Mothers and Family – Creative Prose Folio

January 13, 2026

Jessica Yen – Houdini

January 13, 2026

Jen Bryant – Lessons

January 13, 2026

Tracie Adams – All My Love, Monitored and Recorded

January 13, 2026

Nettie Reynolds – Crossing the Canyon

January 13, 2026

Melissa Fraterrigo – Mother-Daughter Osmosis

January 13, 2026

Jennifer Harris – One Hundred and Forty-One Miles

Facebook X (Twitter) Instagram YouTube Tumblr Threads
  • About
  • Advertise
  • Submit
  • Contact
MER - Mom Egg Review
PO Box 9037, Bardonia, NY 10954
Contact [email protected]

Copyright © 2025 MER and Mom Egg Review

Type above and press Enter to search. Press Esc to cancel.