Poetry By Michelle DeLoiuse-Ashmore

Matthew Bellemare CC



​
I’m a Bitch
               I’m a lover, I’m a child, I’m a mother,
               I’m a sinner, I’m a saint, I do not feel ashamed

Driving down a backroad with my windows down
& Meredith Brooks’ “Bitch” blaring through the speakers,
a cigarette between my fingers & then touching my lips — I feel
most myself like this, most like my mother’s daughter. How many times
was I sitting passenger as we went 50 down a backroad outside Cabot? Do you remember
when I called her a bitch & she laughed?                  I called her a bitch
                 & her laughter filled me with so much warmth
that I kept saying it over & over, my small voice getting louder & louder
until she started shouting it back & we were both screaming bitch out the window,
laughter getting caught in our throats as the damp summer air
filled the car, our legs sticking to the seats, but we didn’t notice.
                How many years has it been now? I don’t know
                what my mother’s laugh sounds like anymore.





Solitaire 

This morning I am playing solitaire & drinking too much coffee
              & thinking of you, thinking of me, maybe.
                             Or really, I am thinking of everyone I’ve ever loved
              playing cards with me around this table,
              eating dinner together here around this table,
our knees knocking or touching lightly as we settle into our seats, as someone begins
a story about their childhood & last nights’ adventures, 
               & i can’t help but to start grieving this moment,
               before it even starts. I am always always always trying to hold
onto everyone around me, I don’t know how to let go — even today
I am still thinking of everyone who has ever left --
               or did I leave them?
                             How did it go?





​Loving You Forever

Standing before the bathroom mirror, my dark curls
falling to the ground around me as I snip haphazardly.
I am learning how to be my perfect lover. Spend my days
wrapped around myself in bed, kissing the freckles on my shoulders,
coming home with fresh flowers. Tonight I will make myself dinner,
paired with cheap wine from Aldi’s.                  I am alone, yes,
swaying back & forth in the kitchen, stepping on my own toes
as I dance to Al Green’s “Let’s Stay Together” but tonight
I have never been more in love with anyone in my entire life,
& it feels so good to pull my own warmth over my chest.




Michelle DeLoiuse-Ashmore is a Native Hawaiian poet living and writing in Northwest Arkansas. Her writing explores ideas of grief and love, family and trauma. You can find her poems in Plain China, RookieMag, Hawai'i Review, Clementine Unbound, and more.