Collective Unrest

 

My Daughter’s Room 11.09.16

May 29, 2019

Last night while
my daughter
dreamt

that the wind

was brushing past
her uncut skin

as it streamed
through all
the shattered
skylights,

the country
crept in

and re-plastered
the open
ceiling.

 

 

Claudine Nash is a psychologist and award-winning poet whose collections include The Wild Essential (Kelsay Books, 2017), Parts per Trillion (Aldrich Press, 2016) and the chapbook The Problem with Loving Ghosts  (Finishing Line Press, 2014). Her work has received Pushcart Prize nominations and has appeared in a wide range of magazines and anthologies including Asimov’s Science Fiction, BlazeVOX, Cloudbank, Haight Ashbury Literary Journal, and Dime Show Review. Website:
www.claudinenashpoetry.com. This poem was previously published in Yellow Chair Review.

Please follow and like us:
error
In category:
Newer Post

Elegy for the Black Man Who Survived a Police Encounter Today

I thought you were dead when I first saw you. Ghost of my dreams, you are what I see when the news tells me who's laying in their pool of blood this time. But you are not where I imagined,…
Read
Older Post

Upon Discovering You Have Begun to Lurk in the Neighborhood, I Complete This in Finality

(After seven years) you violated the ultimate human(istic) agreement: I keep to my side of the bed, you keep to yours. Staring at your constantly-fading face and evaporating outline, if I learned anything, it’s that I was made for better…
Read
Random Post

Kumari Trishna Shakya, Three-Year Old Living Goddess, Nepal

Little Miss Trishna with banyan tree body is selected as ruler today. She has the thighs of a deer, a soft duck voice, and a gold complexion displayed. Little Miss Trishna can’t eat what she wants or allow her skin…
Read
Random Post

V is for Villain

"It makes me out to be a villain," what you tell him when you make that joke he hates: Hit it first, both ways — though his was just the gut. That isn’t true, his fear is clear: conflated in…
Read
Random Post

17

When I was 17, my biggest concern was wondering when I could jerk off next, not thinking I’d have to convince jerk-offs why my math teacher shouldn’t have to trade their ruler in for a gun. When I was 17,…
Read
Random Post

The Human Experience

To Chris Abani You promised a poem and you came Just as I was tucking the kids in bed. You show me a few words: Fear, loneliness, passion, heartache Of a man my age, same status From their side of…
Read