Author: Mom Egg Review

Kate Neuman Housecleaning, 2020 I sat in my son’s room yesterday afternoon, in this heat-wave, with his air conditioner blasting, watching as he went through the ages of his life’s detritus that have found their way into his closet. I’ve tried to get him to do this at least once a year for the past decade, with no luck, but, yesterday, it was as if no one had ever suggested it to him – the idea born from his head, Athena-like. It’s certainly about time. He just turned 20. He’s in college. He’s six feet tall. He has…

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Corynn Kokolakis Building Blocks Building Blocks, 72×48, oil and acrylic on panel, 2014 to 2023 Building Blocks is from my MFA thesis exhibition entitled M(y)otherwork that considers how the practices of mothering and painting influence and inform one another while often remaining at odds. These pieces speak to the constant negotiation of autonomy between child and mother. The paintings present from the point of view of the mother the ebb and flow of autonomy through the stages of development and in turn the stages of mothering. The child’s developing autonomy is suggested through the maternal gaze and direct refusal…

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Eloísa Pérez-Lozano A Mother’s Milk Eloísa Pérez-Lozano is a photographer and artist whose photographs have been published in “The National Catholic Reporter,” “aaduna,” and “Montana Mouthful,” among others. Originally a poet, she was inspired to try visual art after visiting a couple of art galleries in Houston in April 2023. She likes working with mixed media including tissue paper and metal as well as using acrylic paint. She lives with her family in Houston, Texas.

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Nicole Piasecki Back To Center My six-year old son, J asks me if we can make pancakes before school. He’s overslept, and we don’t have time for pouring, cracking, whisking, grilling, and eating. It is a cereal-or- yogurt morning. “Sure,” I say. My agreement something like apology, an attempt to prove that I am a good mother. We walk to the kitchen together. Until recently, I had been mom #1, the kiss-the-cut mom, the morning-snuggles mom, the drive-to-school mom, the comfort-me mom, the make-the-lunch mom, the stay-home-when-he’s- sick mom because I had a flexible work schedule when my partner,…

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Candace Chambliss It Hurts When you spend the weekend at your dad’s house, playing cards, eating McDonalds, and horseback riding and you return to your mother and happily announce that you want to live with daddy and she scoops you up by the armpits, places you on the stoop and says, “Well let’s see if his ass comes back for you then.” And she closes the door. When you ask about cousin Rita, who wore red overalls and a smile as big as sun, and your dad says she’s on crack as if crack is something to be mounted…

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Carolyn Schlam The Loveseat Carolyn Schlam is an award winning painter, sculptor and published author. Her books include THE CREATIVE PATH, THE ZEN OF ART and THE JOY OF ART series of books. Her artwork is primarily figurative and has been exhibited in many museums, galleries and publications. The oil painting featured here is one of many on the theme of Mother and Child, a beloved subject.

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Review by DeMisty D. Bellinger In her latest poetry collection, Allison Blevins offers myriad perspective on pain, all kinds of pain, through unflinching poem after poem. Cataloging Pain documents physical pain experienced by a disabled body, as well as the pain of motherhood, of love and sex, and of desire. In intimate but inviting language, Blevins allows us to not necessarily experience pain, but to consider it and how the effects it has on the subject in these poems. The first poem, “Cataloguing Pain as Marriage Counseling,” lays the groundwork for the honesty and familiar language throughout the entire…

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Review by Nicelle Davis Permit Me to Write My Ending by Rebecca Faulkner begins with a scene of a dying boy seemingly choosing to end his life by plunging into the sea. The poem raises questions about whether suicide is a deliberate choice or a result of circumstances. The closing lines echo the Icarus myth, suggesting the consequences of trying to escape fate will only bring us back to the inedibility of death. The boy’s Converse shoes symbolize makeshift wings as he leaps or falls. The ending lines of this Proem do a good job of preparing for the haunting…

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