Tuesday, November 15, 2022

Tuesday poem #502 : Kirstin Allio : Aphorism I.



Every woman is inside
Everyman, bathed in blood
Warm background noise the

Dial tone of memory.


Every man is an eye
Of the earth
, says Frédéric
Bruly Bouabré, but

Not every woman gives birth


To herself by a certain
Alphabet, uncertainty how
Most of us feel about dying in the shadows

Of the ribbed pillars of destiny. Not


To put too fine a point
On the unknown, knowing
We still have to feed, but

When the child is more nostalgic


For childhood than the mother you get
A monster. 89% of survey monkeys
Say interruptions cause connection

To falter. A little


More starch per square inch,
The stretch sounds
Synthetic, like

Velcro, reversal


Of referent, re-do
Of nature, nurture’s
Aftermath: nothing

That isn’t held holds.




Kirstin Allio’s
books are the novels Buddhism for Western Children (University of Iowa) and Garner (Coffee House), and the short story collection Clothed, Female Figure (Dzanc). Her writing appears recently in AGNI, American Short Fiction, Bennington Review, Changes Review, Conjunctions, Epiphany, Fence, Guernica, New England Review, Plume, Poetry Northwest, Prairie Schooner, Subtropics, and elsewhere. She has received the National Book Foundation’s 5 Under 35 Award, a PEN/O. Henry Prize, and fellowships from Brown University’s Howard Foundation and MacDowell. She lives in Providence, RI.

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan


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