Picaroon Poetry - Issue #4 - September 2016
Issue #4 has arrived on your shores, this time bringing - amongst other things - murder (of a sort), mayhem (of many sorts), rather interesting bedroom shenanigans (just the one thankfully), and a rather more liberal use of the c-word than we'd usually contain (look away if this offends). CN/TW for child abuse, miscarriage. Features work by Nancy Iannucci, Cathryn Shea, Kevin Casey, Jeffrey Kingman, Ricky Garni, Paul Vaughan, Andie Berryman, Caroline Hardaker, Maurice Devitt, Daniel Roy Connelly, Al McClimens, Grant Tarbard, Meygan Cox, Anna Percy, Matt Duggan, Lizzie Holden, Holly Magill, Evie Worrall, Justin Hilliard, Antony Owen, Larry D. Thacker, R.A. Clemens, Lauren Suchenski, Amy Rea, Darren C. Demaree, and Courtney Lavender.
Issue #4 has arrived on your shores, this time bringing - amongst other things - murder (of a sort), mayhem (of many sorts), rather interesting bedroom shenanigans (just the one thankfully), and a rather more liberal use of the c-word than we'd usually contain (look away if this offends). CN/TW for child abuse, miscarriage. Features work by Nancy Iannucci, Cathryn Shea, Kevin Casey, Jeffrey Kingman, Ricky Garni, Paul Vaughan, Andie Berryman, Caroline Hardaker, Maurice Devitt, Daniel Roy Connelly, Al McClimens, Grant Tarbard, Meygan Cox, Anna Percy, Matt Duggan, Lizzie Holden, Holly Magill, Evie Worrall, Justin Hilliard, Antony Owen, Larry D. Thacker, R.A. Clemens, Lauren Suchenski, Amy Rea, Darren C. Demaree, and Courtney Lavender.
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To my baby who just learned how to<br />
walk<br />
Lauren Suchenski<br />
If I could wrap the world around your tongue<br />
into the slightest sliver of a word<br />
I’d tell you all the twisting things that will meet you<br />
when you walk.<br />
I’d tell you, sweet baby,<br />
about the paths that lead nowhere at all<br />
the fragments of days that will get stuck on the roof of your mouth<br />
the snowflakes that will rest on your eyebrows<br />
and the fires that will never be put out.<br />
I’d tell you how these feet<br />
will burn, will turn and tumble<br />
over themselves; these feet will lead<br />
you into stories, will run you hot with air,<br />
these feet will walk through measured moments<br />
and tiny triumphs. These feet will learn to dance.<br />
I’d tell you about shoes,<br />
how people will convince you they’ll protect your<br />
ten small toes. But truly, they will never teach<br />
you what it is to feel the ground beneath you.<br />
I’d tell you about legs,<br />
how muscles will cling to your bones<br />
and rush you out the door. Will fly you across a field<br />
and fail you at the end of the road. These legs will<br />
hold. These legs will keep secrets.<br />
I’d tell you about your feet,<br />
and all the feet that have walked<br />
to let you walk.<br />
But my words are just mumblechatter to you<br />
they just sing in tunes and whistle out your ears<br />
you smile back at me and still feel unafraid.
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