I have come away from your pile of poems with
my fingers burning small hearts along my wrist.
My mouth has turned them over twice
and now they’re just red spots on my tongue.
Some of your sentences were angry nails pounded
against some glass. You managed to ride your
skateboard across your grandmother’s death,
no one ever did that before.
Your sixteen lines about Samantha were harsh and
sad, and I will look for her on every bus as you
suggest in the last quatrain. I am unsure she is
my eyes, but perhaps she is my heart.
I am also weak from the world with the
guns in all those high schools turning
bathrooms into bunkers. I am sad for the way
the world has let you down and old enough to
apologize for all of us. I am lost in your woods with
the sleep-away camp map of broken promises and
your grandmother dying in Brooklyn. I value your
rescue puppy and vegan lunches but there are no prizes here.
Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 24, Issue 3.
Amy Soricelli has been published in numerous publications/ anthologies including Remington Review, The Westchester Review, Literati Magazine, The Muddy River Poetry Review, The Bronx Magazine, Glimpse Poetry, *Carmen has No Umbrella but Went for Cigarettes Anyway, Dancing Girl Press (9/2021), Sail Me Away, Dancing Girl Press (10/2019). *Pushcart Nomination: 2021, Nominated twice; “Best of the Net” 2013, 2020, Nominated by Billy Collins for Aspen Words Emerging Writer’s Fellowship/2019.
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