for J, after two miscarriages
What genie do you go to, where
who will live? You would take anything—
head; a girl with snaking hair, perhaps
behind you. Where is the witch
fight through thickets to towers, rise
wants appeasing? The third time’s
the charm, and bad things come
you can’t quicken. No one can spell you. But
your feet; still set on besting that cobbled arc.
Jennifer Jerome is a native New Yorker. Her work has appeared or isforthcoming in various publications, including The Pedestal Magazine, ChiZine, The Comstock Review, Pebble Lake Review, Goblin Fruit, and Astropoetica. For more about her work, cast your ‘net here.
This poem grew out of pain and desire. It was inspired by how they feed—and feed on—the choices we make, and by how we manage to keep moving.