We Women Three “Oh no,” my daughter and I gulped in unison as we saw the slack elastic of my mother’s folded underpants. Stained blouse fronts, gaps of stitching in side seams of thirty-five year old dresses run out of…
Browsing: MER Online
An Interview by J.P. Howard, MER VOX Editor-at-Large, of Mireya Perez-Bustillo and Patsie Alicia Ifill I’ve been thinking a lot about friendships between women, and in particular between women writers, and how we often sustain one another. Not only do…
The Mother Dispossessed Curator: Patricia Brody Featured Poets Srividya Kannan Ramachandran Elisabeth Frischauf Esther Cohen Ellen C. Goldberg Lisa J Cihlar Jane Schulman Katrina Kostro Elizabeth Lorde-Rollins Alexandria Mitchell From the Curator: THESE VOICES Whenever I see the logo letters MER,…
Heaven Halloween was my mother’s favorite holiday. My youngest brother was quite a pro gathering candy and money at a time when it was safe to go into strange buildings. Starting with the building nearest, he would fan out in…
Self-Care as an Act of Survival in this Current Political Climate A Folio Curated by J.P. Howard As a queer, black, mother, writer, activist, womyn in the world, I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means for womyn of…
Mothers Respond – A folio edited by Cindy Veach and Jennifer Martelli The poems in this folio explore how we, as mothers, have responded to the seismic changes over the past few months: are we or our children at risk?…
Post-Inauguration Because our candidate—the woman—didn’t win. Because my son is in 7th grade and kids can be cruel. Because my son is biracial, I did not have the right words when he came home and told me that some kids…
Icarus Takes a Window Seat Your voice on the phone carries a rattle of beverage carts, seatbelts snapping, and the frenzied beating of your heart as you wait for the door to close and trap you. I would like to…
HOW TO SURVIVE A DICTATOR → Call your mother-in-law who lived through the Third Reich. She may tell you to keep a chicken, collect firewood from the graveyard, or burn the stamp collection for warmth. All of these are…
Poem for the New Year My daughter said she would go outside her comfort zone, would pull the string on a booze-bottle popper. When her hands didn’t burn, she popped another. Said she’d try harder at school, listen in History.…