The Journal
Poems about rage, motherhood, politics, grief, awakening and the refusal to be quiet. New work posted as it happens. Read, share, feel something.
She Wiped The Glitter Off
She’d just come off stage.
A matinee performance.
Still had her makeup on-
bright eyeshadow, thick lashes,
tiny diamantés stuck to her cheekbones.
She was proud…
The Hair Stays Up
I got a compliment last week.
“You look amazing,” she said.
I smiled, thanked her,
said it was just my hair,
washed, dried,
worn down for once…
There’s no spreadsheet for this feeling
It’s 7:44am. I’m already tired. There’s one odd sock again. Never two. Who knows where that other one goes. There’s grated cheese on the floor and a child saying, “Can I go on the iPad now?” before I’ve even finished wiping the tears from that video of a mother in Gaza digging her baby out of rubble…