by Jaimie Gusman
What needs me, rolls
out of me ¼ cup starch,
sum of milk, salt
My hands are cupped
like do you still like me in
this condition We are all
questions: does this hurt?
: does this needle look too thick?
: will you wear these orange pants
lungs wooden clogs in no snow?
At some point the ask
is more painful morepain b
less your typical heart tongue
rolling around like a kipper
Broil the spine good like ma-
ma, like levy the skin gma
Hungry is
the big girl’s enemy her form is
neutral eat, eat, eat
Jaimie Gusman lives with her husband, dog, and a family of peacocks in Kaaawa, HI. She works as a freelance writer and adjunct instructor at the University of Hawaii. She has three chapbooks, Gertrude’s Attic (Vagabond Press, 2014), The Anyjar (Highway101 Press, 2011), and One Petal Row (Tinfish Press, 2011). She is also the winner of the 2015 Rita Dove Poetry Prize. Follow her on Twitter at @jaimiegusman, visit her facebook page at: facebook.com/jaimie.gusman, or visit her website at: www.jaimiegusman.com
Art: Like Smoke by Erika Glass
Erika Glass is a 21 year old senior at West Chester University of Pennsylvania. She will graduate in May with a degree in English and hopes to begin a Master’s of Fine Arts degree in Fall 2016. Erika is a Lancaster native, and typically works with watercolor and pencil in her visual art. To see more of her art, check out ErikaGlassArt.com