Archive by Author

CHIMERA by Vievee Francis

I have no charms. Admittedly.
No gold comb can move through
This mane. My skin is not translucent.
It is not soft. Mine is a tail to fear. I know.

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EPICUREAN by Vievee Francis

A hungry mouth, an empty mouth, insistent mouth,
mouth that would be filled by the seaweed of me,
that would crack the shell with a rock and take
its portion. The mouth gages its slide, gapes—
grotto mouth. Mouth where I might go to pray,
to fall upon my knees before. A mouth full of yes,

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