Sarah Sarai The Crooked Road Without Improvement “…among the most disturbing things to me were the long paved streets.” Nietzsche / Jugendschriften She is young: a fact which proves nothing. A twelve-year old in an abode on the…
Browsing: Poetry
Sarah Dickenson Snyder Skinhunger Don’t feel lost right now, I tell myself. Remember the skinhunger of your life— each new romantic love blossoming in your hand having to be on his leg as you sat shoulder to shoulder, the…
Sunita Theiss Sleep Regression Hours pass as he offers his unanswered tears, His pleading cries, anything for a sign from his mother. Tonight he wails, helpless— Will he learn what is true? That disappointments number greater than the waves…
J.P. Howard Tanka for my Son During a Pandemic Our teen wants to stay safe inside our home each day We shelter him in Our home, the safest space now We Mamas don’t push, just love Haibun…
A Literary Folio Curated by J. P. Howard Featured Poets Anna Limontas-Salisbury Danielle Stelluto Jennifer Franklin J.P. Howard Kim Brandon Nicole Callihan Patricia Starek I write this during an unprecedented time in the world. Many, if not…
Curated by Jennifer Martelli and Cindy Veach Isolation Welcome to the Mom Egg Review June VOX “Isolation” folio. It doesn’t take a pandemic to create isolation. Grief and depression can cause it, as can bullying and separation. Motherhood…
Visions of Home: A Poetry Folio This spring, in print and online, Mom Egg Review and MER VOX consider the many facets of HOME. The poets in this folio explore, among other issues, the mother’s body as home,…
Margaret Rozga Home in the Nick of Time Mid-sentence we rise from park benches, mothers, nannies, grandmas, and call children down from their climbing. Starlings flutter, lift off power lines, sparrows flit into the brush, tufts from the cottonwood…
Pramila Venkateswaran History of my Suitcase I drag the large green suitcase from its corner, clouds of cobwebs and dust rising from it making me sneeze. Peering into its dark emptiness, I hear Amma’s quiet words, smell incense and sandalwood,…
Melissa Joplin Higley A Mother’s Lament He knew her as the beginning. A union of bodies divided into another, then replicated exponentially; he grew inside her. Soon, his heartbeat patterned hers. He came to know her murmurs and sighs,…