Five poems from a longer series titled “Metaphors for Miscarriage”

my wound is a simmering punctuation mark

salt
that left you wondering about what kindling

gash
does it to smile, that you though, maybe, in the sunken morning

script
or the scripted undone. there’s nothing quite as precious as mud

if
you could crawl and speak simultaneously, you would carry a heavy weight

scroll
though the way you abdicate is linear and accessory

flag
as if you loved looking at me

bay
but would you swim with only jellyfish?

thorn
in the place you thought was safe. punctured and blew

born is the cleanest foliage

egg
cannot be likened to a tree

bowl
is a bottomless tree

nest
is a tapestry

dead
but the tree still stands

leaf
is not evidence of a tree

egg
was there but happened too quickly

bowl
to the face on a pivotal hinge

nest
flew into tornado and glass

dead
balance the march innuendo

leaf
is my desperate, quaking plant

distraction is the blankest shape

triangle
character style fast menu

square
twice alive not wearing monster

line
eyebrows quick like symptoms dire

point
given fireball is the collar of good

triangle
recognize in the water on the sidewalk

square
is the jar in the mirror two and four

line
from the shadow the trail leaves tracks

point
you welcome the flavor before it's gone

the stone is now my wall

pebbles
long eyes tread with speckles to you

quarry
glance or is it already expired? glance

mineral
she bought her a crystal with the greatest intentions

boulder
flock of spite, bitter to land and be covered with stain

gravel
missing the mountains, the significance of graves

silt
it is clay, she recommends, with the utmost of certainty

sand
or salt, or chalk, or sparkling liquid capable of shine

story
you cannot begin to tell

fence
it is the rocks that keep me honest

the leak is an everlasting stain

hole
but no, it doesn't have sides or a bottom

organ
more like wing than spleen

cancer
the tumor is the presence, not the absence

polyp
looking like an eyeball and focusing

intestine
and all if its exchanges

ovary
when you imagine grapes. again eyes

absorption
where do the puddles go? wash

Since receiving her Ph.D. from U of Illinois, Chicago in Creative Writing in 2007, Mackenzie has been serving as a Visiting Professor of English at Metro State in Denver. She has four chapbooks, including her most recent, “Metaphors for Miscarriage”. Her full-length collection, Leave, Light, Entropy, has been a finalist in several contests, including the Poets Out Loud competition in 2007. She edits the online journal “Listenlight” at listenlight.net.