1977
Dancy Street, long and brown
leather sandals: Bastrop County: highest incidence of teenage pregnancy in
the state.
But the leaves crunch so craftily under the back.
Born from a bellbottom evergreen postcard.
Body a flower bucket.
The size of a brush.
Body a space heater, little toaster.
1978
He tells her about the death in his testicles. She clutches mason jars to
her chest:
learns to repair VCRs-VHS and Beta.
A poppy flames from the head-moon above milk and thumb god.
Developing desire for women in tight green shirts.
1979
One creator dead at twenty-three. She gathers up concert tickets from every
crevice: Armadillo, Palmer, Pier, skin flakes, saved leaves, brown hair,
tortoise pick, snake wallet, black comb, top shelf, closet, click.
1980
Return of the Why-Monster: Car trips and carob and why?
The body reliably rolls out of bed. Why?
Rolling cloud of the mighty blue zephyr going daily
to give away the chairs, repair the broken feet.
Curiosity comes crashing down like hell,
the toaster pulled by the bleeding cord
and into the "Me" decade,
hiccupping burnt why-toast without crust.
Karyna McGlynn is a writer and photographer living in Seattle. Her work has recently appeared or is forthcoming in Wisconsin Review, Poetry Salzburg Review, Porcupine Literary Arts Magazine, Coal City Review, Orbis, Plainsongs, No Exit, the Paumanok Review, Medicinal Purposes Literary Review, Poetry Midwest, Pindeldyboz & Blueline. Ms. McGlynn is the founder of Screaming Emerson Press, which publishes chapbooks by local spoken-word poets. She attends the creative writing program at Seattle University where she serves as poetry editor for the Cascadia Review