by Mikki Aronoff
Misunderstandings
Do you dream of letters? You could
say ah, this is good luck, this is the start
of what you finish. Good. Great. Grace
as sure as a broom. A broom of destruction
sweeps up debris, the crumbling and the cleaning
and you with a single stick in your hands.
Careful where you point that. OK, it’s problematic.
I dream of language but only in unassembled parts.
I hide my shame under skirts, in the fabric. I lament.
My filth accumulates. Oh, this is better. This letter
paired with that, good god gold giddy – the dream
of one collision and new molecules an answer
an answer a sign. My gates sink into the ground.
Context matters. For gods and goods and goodness.
And there was light, but how do we know
what to make of that without saying? It was seen
and it was good. So much is unwritten. Maybe all
the letters are the scattered remains of your eulogy,
torn to its smallest pieces and dreamed so the writing
remains unwritten? Oh, these words, these words,
these letters, recurring so often they become:
nightmare, unreadable, commonplace. Pick one
explanation or two but do not let them breed.
They are like birds, domestic and wild. They appear
to be the same but they are entirely different species.
Each character has value so I need to know how to spell
the sound of exhalation, to make it count when
I read headlines and have nothing to say.
Shana Ross is a recent transplant to Edmonton, Alberta and Treaty Six Territory. Qui transtulit sustinet. Her work has recently appeared in Great Weather for MEDIA, Vassar Review, Ninth Letter, Quarter After Eight and more. She serves as an editor for Luna Station Quarterly and a critic for Pencilhouse. Bluesky: @shanaross.bsky.social.
Mikki Aronoff advocates for animals and scribbles and scrawls away in New Mexico. Her poetry and prose have been nominated for Pushcart, Best of the Net, Best Small Fictions, Best American Short Stories, and Best Microfiction, with stories appearing in Best Microfiction 2024 and Best Small Fictions 2024.