When I finally sit down to write poetry at 9 p.m. in my “office” – which is my laptop sitting on my long wooden dining room table – I usually hear a drama-filled voice start calling, “Mama, mama, come quick!…
Browsing: MER VOX
I set the trap tonight. Last week I wrote in my journal that life is sacred. Later, I bought the trap. Tonight I read to my child. Do animal mothers love their babies? Yes, yes, of course they do. Animal…
He could do it himself, make his own sandwich, omelette and Monterey Jack in pita bread, no tomato, just a pickle on the side. Could squeeze his own orange juice when he comes to visit. Wash his clothes. I could…
At 2 am I sit in a car in an unmarked parking spot around the corner from the house. Will he escape from his room, jump onto the roof and down to the driveway to run? Earlier, I tell his…
Dear Kindergarten Teacher, I am going out of town this week. My husband and Henry are coming with me because Henry is still nursing and can’t be away from me for more than twelve hours or else my milk will…
You came when a woman is usually past the messiness of a child with all its evolutionary prized self-centeredness and demand. You came and introduced fear into a life If not well lived, lived with adventure, risk; attempted without regret.…
You would see she exists in defined space composed of small detail: apples, thread, car keys, what’s for dinner Wednesday. If she could move from thread and grocery lists to questions of destiny, love, death— but life interrupts in the…
My name is winter hanging on the hem of spring A mandarin red My mother’s name is long road blues A scattered red My father’s name is twisted psalm A gospel / not red I come from a shouting /…
We recently completed the process of responding to submissions for the upcoming issue of Mom Egg Review. This is always tough. We are all writers; we know how unpleasant it is to receive a “decline” response. So why do pieces…
So Mom, if you come there are rules: no talking about grandpa’s big C or making up your wacky stories. When you pack Christopher’s school lunch, don’t make peanut butter sandwiches, one of his friends might die, and no chocolate.…