"Wheelie!" by Perrin Clore Duncan
Two Poems by Shannon K. Winston
When the Speech Therapist Told Me to Say the Letter "S," I Opened My Mouth
and daffodils & azaleas & watercress & fireflies
sprung from my lips. The speech therapist
stared: you can’t even pronounce the letter that begins
your own name. I tried again. Nothing,
nothing, & lilacs, clover, the moistest dirt.
Imagine my surprise when swallows, sparrows,
& weeping willows curved up from behind my molars.
Why are you so distracted by the simplest task?
How sweet the onion grass, daffodils,
& burdock root behind my teeth. Just focus
on the task at hand. Read the letters on the page.
I’ve always fumbled over the most basic tasks.
S, right after R, as in rose. As in this thorn
wedged between my teeth. Beauty’s
sharpest edge. Again and again, my tongue
rubbed up against it until it bled.
Just say something, she urged.
I muttered: it hurts.
and daffodils & azaleas & watercress & fireflies
sprung from my lips. The speech therapist
stared: you can’t even pronounce the letter that begins
your own name. I tried again. Nothing,
nothing, & lilacs, clover, the moistest dirt.
Imagine my surprise when swallows, sparrows,
& weeping willows curved up from behind my molars.
Why are you so distracted by the simplest task?
How sweet the onion grass, daffodils,
& burdock root behind my teeth. Just focus
on the task at hand. Read the letters on the page.
I’ve always fumbled over the most basic tasks.
S, right after R, as in rose. As in this thorn
wedged between my teeth. Beauty’s
sharpest edge. Again and again, my tongue
rubbed up against it until it bled.
Just say something, she urged.
I muttered: it hurts.
Stories
|
believe me
tell me a story a woman placed her baby in a basket and sent it downriver with a blanket and two coins talismans for safe passage nothing about this is real doctors said a week or two at most lungs collapse like matchsticks there were no other options maybe there's more to the story a woman, a baby, a river arrange the details so they matter mud beneath her feet did she lean in to whisper: I dreamed there was no baby just a box of basil and cardamom O' these seeds of this story may the details ripen like a nectarine in my mouth |
deceive me
spin me a tale a woman put snapdragons in a box under her bed with basil and cardamom amulets for richer dreams everything about this is real doctors are only for the weak lungs radiate with matchstick light there are always options maybe that's all there is to it a woman, snapdragons, a dreamer arrange details willy-nilly plum carpet under her toes did she lean in to whisper: I dreamed I was sent down river in a basket with a blanket O' these fragments of this myth may the details recede like the two coins lost in the folds of my coat pocket |
Shannon K. Winston's work has appeared in The Los Angeles Review, Rogue Agent, and Crab Orchard Review, among others. Her first poetry collection, Threads Give Way (Cold Press), was published in 2010. She earned her MFA at Warren Wilson College, and she currently teaches in Princeton University’s Writing Program.
Perrin Clore Duncan, from Oklahoma, graduated from DePauw University in May 2017 with a B.A. in Economics and Studio Art. Her work has been shown and published in Ireland, the United States, and worldwide through online publications. Perrin currently pursues her M.F.A. at the Burren College of Art in Ireland.
Visit her on instagram at @perrincloreduncan.art or at her WEBSITE.
Visit her on instagram at @perrincloreduncan.art or at her WEBSITE.
