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Report all Unattended Bags or Packages

I’m a medical miracle & nobody knows. My hair is silver, that’s all they see. My pedicure is 6 months old & I can’t recall the scent of polish. Something plum & bitter. My gall bladder & appendix & shavings of my cervix, blackish moles of odd shape & size removed without  fanfare, & nobody knows. My left breast vanished, the flesh replaced with questionable ink & tequila. My heart resides on the wall of the missing. 7 years after it went out for a ride. For milk & a cashier’s check & never returned. All the posters now yellowed & brittle & used to start fires. My fingerprints do  not  match  my  fingerprints.

Beth Gordon photo 11.25.18.jpg

Beth Gordon is a poet, mother and grandmother who recently escaped the Midwest after 19 years and now lives in North Carolina where the water is sweeter, the biscuits are always served with gravy, and she can say y'all without a hint of irony. Beth is the author of two chapbooks: Morning Walk with Dead Possum, Breakfast and Parallel Universe (Animal Heart Press) and Particularly Dangerous Situation (Clare Songbird Publishing).  She can be found at and on Twitter: @bethgordonpoet

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