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Poetry Summer 2020    fiction    all issues

Poetry Summer 2020 cover


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
& other poems

Kimberly Sailor
Two Aphids
& other poems

Sugar le Fae
& other poems

Lauren Sartor
Shopping Cart Woman
& other poems

Nathaniel Cairney
Mushroom Hunting, Jackson County, Kansas
& other poems

Elisa Carlsen
& 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


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.

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