by Carol Aronoff Forced birth to increasedomestic supply of infantsfor adoption. Not oil, notchickens—children. Is birth control nextto be sacrificed on the altarof false piety– our bodiesoffered up to the state? Anger–too small a word tocontain my feelings of ...
Pamela Warren Williams Watch for Unexpected Pedestrians, the sign says. The wall is right there next to the El Paso freeway. Right. There. That sign has remained with me, as have so many images. Returning from what would be my last search, not...
Telma Laurentino Each woman, a tree. Rings of pain and joy entangled, scar-dented bark, thousands of loving branches, chthonic roots devoted to growth. Each woman, a daughter. Promised nurturing, offered hurt, braving transgenerational tides, fiercely, gently,...
Claire Reutter We women be when we see the beauty in Claudine Gay and Elizabeth Magill who they tried to kill but we know still live; when we hear the pleas in Rashida Tlaib who they tried to silence but we still hear; when we feel the fear, and when we hear...
Janet Ruth Everything about walking icy roads after snow at 5˚ F requires care—even breathing. Pulling neck-wrap across face, I remind myself to breathe in through nose in tiny sips, help warm the brittle air drawn through nose and sinuses into my lungs. Pushed...
Janet Ruth The opposite of cancer is not benign. Memory from childhood—a monster under the bed. In the looking glass—our mirror images. We seek a weapon to vanquish fear. Together we name the monster under the bed. Wild women with fierce determination, armed to...
