Poetry Summer 2020 fiction all issues
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Cover Vecteezy
Rodrigo Dela Peña
If a Wound is an Entrance for Light
& other poems
Shellie Harwood
Early Evening, Late September
& other poems
William A. Greenfield
The Deacon’s Lament
& other poems
J. H. Hall
Immersion
& other poems
Kimberly Sailor
Two Aphids
& other poems
Sugar le Fae
Bagging
& other poems
Lauren Sartor
Shopping Cart Woman
& other poems
Nathaniel Cairney
Mushroom Hunting, Jackson County, Kansas
& other poems
Elisa Carlsen
Cormorant
& other poems
Daniel Gorman
The Boy Achilles
& other poems
Samara Hill
I Look for Her Mostly Everywhere
& other poems
Nicole Justine Reid
Returning to Sensual
& other poems
David Ginsberg
Butterfly Wings
& other poems
Katherine B. Arthaud
Café Sant Ambroeus
& other poems
George R. Kramer
Young Odysseus
& other poems
Amy Swain
In Praise of Trees
& other poems
Frederick Shiels
Bad October: 2016
& other poems
Matthew A. Hamilton
Summer of '89
& other poems
Chris Kleinfelter
Getting from There to Here
& other poems
Martin Conte
Ghazal for the Shipwrecked
& other poems
Natalie LaFrance-Slack
I Do Not Owe You My Beauty
& other poems
Susan Marie Powers
Dark Water
& other poems
Samara Hill
Self-Portrait as a Poet Who
Can’t Stop Writing Self-Portraits
here, you are nineteen.
your father fishes for his truth, in his expired scriptures
and in the shallows of your words.
you are named: wretched sinner. righteous disappointment.
here, Love is promising your mother is with you
as your father attempts to strangle you
in his frustrated attempt to regain control.
here, Love is gasping for breath and watching your mother’s steps
retreat.
here, you are twenty.
your boyfriend shows you he is not your boyfriend, through the medium of other people.
here, he confesses in a text message his desire for bodies that are not yours.
bodies that could never be yours, even if you tried.
here, you are trying.
here, Love is dieting. Love is an apple a day and a gallon of water. Love is skinny tea
and weight loss regimes. Love is collapsing in the gym. Standing in the mirror, happy
to see a rib.
here, Love is fleeting moments of acceptance. Devastation when he doesn’t notice. Agonizing shame when he mentions her name.
here, Love is honesty. honestly looking at your reflection
and retreating because
here, Love is failing.
here, you are twenty-one.
the sunlight is dull.
your room is a dark blue.
sometimes the bright hue from your phone blinds you as you attempt to scroll through
empty notifications. refreshing until something comes up.
you try for hours. and, nothing comes up.
here, you are measuring your self-worth in how long it takes for someone to say happy birthday
and one minute before it is no longer your birthday your boyfriend who is not your boyfriend
tells you he hopes you enjoyed your day.
here, you wished you were dying.
here, you thought dying synonymous with interesting. with remembered. with loved . . .
here, you are not.
escaping is convenient for you, I know.
yet, while knowing you have gone some place far and lonely,
I look for you mostly everywhere.
because somewhere, Love is waiting in plainest view.
because somewhere, Love is waiting for you.
Samara Hill
is a University of Maryland psychology graduate who has been writing for as long as she can remember. Though some may disagree with her use of poetry, she believes writing is a way to express one’s deepest thoughts and most troubling emotions. Hill writes with the utmost vulnerability and honesty. She hopes that when people read her poems, they are able to find comfort in knowing they are not alone in their struggles.