Olivia Do
Homonyms
Letitia Jiju
I mean voices, not as in safe
and—. Run,
a three-letter word has more than
six-hundred connotations.
See how a self holds
more than one self.
God gave
life to a woman, asked
to bear it.
Which was also the meaning of it.
After a Panic Attack, the Hippocampus Fills Me In
I could not call on
the array with your name on,
and you were through. Then,
behind your eyes, the dark
dissipated. God—I placed
his thorn-stitch, his barbed
beating sock—
addressed it. Said,
Peace, my daughter.
When day arrived, I prompted
a poem and an armadillo
girdled lizard considering
sudden sun—
Bored. But on all fours.
Hypothesis
sourced from Água Viva, Clarice Lispector
the human part passed—
a blue night
thick with the visible arrow of dreams and the intangible,
white animal of my future.
Awaiting me,
she had no fear and began
writing with tender light:
there’s a way to love this.
Letitia Jiju is interested in the poetry of wave functions, quarks and the little things. Her work has appeared in The Cincinnati Review, Ninth Letter, Passages North, Denver Quarterly and elsewhere. Aside from being a poet, she is an engineer and works in economic diplomacy.
Next Up: Two Poems by Susan Nguyen