ISSUE ONE: Trams Yell Yes! | next poem →

Left

Erin Dorney

I left my blanket in the backseat of your car.
I left my feather in gate 2B of the airport.
I left my nail polish in your mouth,
my sewing machine in the mall—
I left my bobby pins on the pier.
Left my willpower on your sweating neck,
my collarbone on the front porch—
earrings in the tire swing,
I left my seashell in your armpit.
I left my nightmares in Ohio.
I left my long hair in the cave,
my hammer in your glovebox
I left my eyelashes in the ashtray
my lung in a—somewhere...
I left my jacket in the shower.
I left my thigh beneath your pillow,
left my molars in the freezer,
fire in the basement—
loneliness in the top dresser drawer.
I left my heartache in the French press,
fingers on a city bus,
I left my missing on a stone beach,
my memory in the long grass.

Erin Dorney lives in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. You can learn more about her at http://erindorney.com or follow her on Twitter at @edorney. Her work has appeared in The Pinch Literary Journal, Birdfeast Magazine, Rufous City Review, The Found Poetry Review, and elsewhere.

ISSUE ONE: Trams Yell Yes! | next poem →






ISSUE ONE: Trams Yell Yes!

Craig Kurtz
    Index Denied
    Reinvestment Order

Erin Dorney
    This Is Not A Poem About
       Fast Food

    Left

Rose Swartz
   Odalisque
   Quondam

Tim Kahl
    Plasma Globe

Alison McCabe
    I Watch Myself Loop

Dan Boehl
   excerpts from whatever
       from @emoemoji

Vanessa Couto Johnson
    (t)ravel
    neces(sit)ies

Valentina Cano
    Planned Remodeling

Ryan Napier
    Seasonal Affective Disorder

Terry Wolverton
    Sizzle and Chew

Gregory Crosby
    Satan's Skull Glows White Hot

Lea Galanter
    When Lost in the Woods

Jake Sheff
    Stasis in Ragtime

Angelica Poversky
    Enough

Mercedes Lawry
    In Late November, There Are
       Days of False Clemency