by Kerfe Roig
the world, a world like this
where are the cities i loved & left [behind]
in my 20’s? that rooftop – [5th & wall]
where we sat drinking – curved metal chairs
cupping our skin. it felt good – that winter,
with drugs used like lovers, things to be touched,
or savored. until my brain wired for [escape]
grew weary of watching the world slap shut.
i held my head down [so long] beneath water
that my skin turned blue & blossomed. like a
birth or a dream, i let go of [hope.] oh world,
a world like this, what are you to the girls but
an organ grinder’s leash around the neck?
Sheree La Puma is an award-winning writer whose work has appeared in The Penn Review, Redivider, The Maine Review, Rust + Moth, Catamaran Literary Reader among others. She earned her MFA in writing from CalArts. Her poetry has been nominated for Best of The Net and the Pushcart. She has a new chapbook, Broken: Do Not Use. (Main Street Rag Publishing) www.shereelapuma.com.
A resident of New York City, Kerfe Roig enjoys transforming words and images into something new. Her poetry and art have been featured online by Silver Birch Press, The song is…, Pure Haiku, Visual Verse, and The Ekphrastic Review, and published in Ella@100, Incandescent Mind, the Raw Art Review, The Anthropocene Hymnal: Songs of a self-defining eraand several Nature Inspired anthologies. Follow her explorations on her blogs, https://methodtwomadness.wordpress.com/ (which she does with her friend Nina), and https://kblog.blog/, and see more of her work on her website http://kerferoig.com/.