Issue #4 July 2015
Detail from Bear Helps Deer Move an Old Sofa by Tim Frisch

Jess Feldman

The Way Back

I carry this boyfriend  my boyfriend

on my back  My strength is crying

into my long fingers  is braying

through the torn up Appalachian mountain

At night  is a barge lit like city  slipping

under the Memorial Bridge  Is holy light

A horse can just as easily slide by

in light  Unseen I held onto your dear red

shirt like my dried prom corsage  A

million shades to worry  In the city  A horse

steady in the depths of his soft manured stall

Old Miracles

The older I get, every gift thrust upon me, I accept and
hate myself.

Pigeons scattered
by a shih tzu; the bakery turns
out the fresh loaves.

I work so hard to stay home alone and stare at an empty horse bridle
hung from the wall.

At horse’s height, I write myself
a mild summer:
lake water, dreams of girls.

I summered 10 years by deep water and didn’t drown.
There was nothing to be afraid of

In the future

It won't be necessary
to post a profile pic
of you & your baby

You'll just be that
woman again
swinging a hammer
a city
at the edge of the world