1/1/2019 Semipermeable by Sara Moore Wagner Sarah Wampler CC
Semipermeable We hawk bottled water to motocross bros who kick up the sediment when they walk by wet-caked with dust—mother coached us to say the word osmosis over and over, to thrust cone shaped paper cups into the crowd. Instead, we balance them on our noses like beaks. It’s so hot. The men wear thick jackets with neon piping; REO Speedwagon blasting, baby I can’t fight this feeling anymore—We are still girls, you and I, blonde and skinny legged, unfiltered, full of large particles and debris. Like, but so unlike the biker babes with their bleached hair and tight stomachs, their cans of Miller light, and Marlboro reds. How pretty. August hangs blue and plastic. It’s too hot to stay here. Let’s go out to the track, watch the way the tires fling: imagine we’re inside a cloud, the loud whir of transmissions, smell of burning motor oil, our fingers around the chain link fence. Separated from it as we will be from each other, as we will be. Imagine we can ride off over those low hills, jump and mount the sky as Northern Pintails, that we’re not held in place by tarping, ropes and anchors, by this girlhood, cresting above us like a hand, ready to fall. Sara Moore Wagner is the Cincinnati based author of the chapbook Hooked Through (Five Oaks Press, 2017). Her poetry has appeared in many journals and anthologies including Glass Poetry Journal, Gulf Stream, and Gigantic Sequins, among others, and is forthcoming in journals like Western Humanities Review and Pretty Owl Poetry. She has been nominated for a Pushcart prize, and for Best of the Net. www.saramoorewagner.com. Comments are closed.
|
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. Archives
December 2024
Categories |