LOVE POEM WITH A MAGGOT INFESTATION by Janelle Tan

/ / Issue 24

 

                            “For a person in love, the air looks no different.” – Jane Hirshfield

 

may was the problem, 
not the trash we forgot about.

they’re not gonna die with bleach,
you say,

flattening them with paper towels.

maggots are crawling up the walls,
spilling across the crumpling plastic –

as i flood the hallway wall in
clorox, you take the trash out.

die, motherfuckers!, you say, grabbing
fistfuls of maggots

toward the trash chute,
running with your arms above you. 

you wave your hands: come on!

and i am behind you,
running with worms in my hands –

the air buzzed with rotting meat. 

 

POETRY

EVERY SEVENTEEN YEARS CICADAS RUPTURE THE EARTH by Hannah Corrie

A STORY ENDING WITH AN OFFERING by Willie Lin

TWO POEMS by Meredith Nnoka

TENDING GRIEF AT THE GREAT SALT LAKE, A RITUAL by Kathryn Knight Sonntag

WHOEVER IS NOT HOME GROWS SICK by David Keplinger and Bruce Bond

AFTERMATH by Robert Wood Lynn

LOVE POEM WITH A MAGGOT INFESTATION by Janelle Tan

TWO POEMS by Helena Mesa

ROAD TO BYBLOS by Medeleine Cravens

IN THE HALL OF THE MOUNTAIN KING by Majda Gama

THE FAMILY STONE by Catherine Norris

FICTION

MEMORY FIELDS by Liz Howey

THE LEAST AMERICAN FACE by M. Y. Li

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