July 2-8, 2007: Lana Hechtman Ayers and Jennifer L.

week of July 2-8, 2007

Lana Hechtman Ayers and Jennifer L.

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Lana Hechtman Ayers

Bio (auto)

Lana Hechtman Ayers lives in Kirkland, WA where she is a manuscript consultant, runs writing workshops, edits Crab Creek Review and publishes Concrete Wolf Poetry Chapbooks Her first book, Dance From Inside Her Bones, currently nominated for the National Book Award, and her chapbook, Love is a Weed, are available through her website, LanaAyers.com.

The following work is Copyright © 2007, and owned by Lana Hechtman Ayers and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.

Do Not Mistake Heaven For What Descends

In a small village outside Baghdad,
a house with an earthen floor
is filled with the morning music
of children’s chatter

and the chiming of hand forged spoons
against handmade clay bowls A little girl in a yellow dress
burns her tongue on a bit of hot grains
Her adolescent brother with a cricket voice
sings about the size of his sister’s nose,
teasing her that it is so large it can be seen
from heaven itself
He pulls her long dark hair until
a few strands let go and the girl cries out The mother scolds that brother
in a language that sounds like

the chopping of almonds Meanwhile, the younger brother,
whose eyes are the sweet brown of dates,
sits in a corner silent, watching a spider

weave a glistening bridge from wall to wall Just then, a stray missile fired by our side
descends near the two-room house In the flash of moment before the family

is overcome by heat and by smoke,
they witness the intense burning of the roof,
and the youngest brother wonders
if the sun felt so tired that it fell from the sky.

Jennifer L jlinl@juno.com

Bio (auto)

Jennifer L currently resides twenty minutes north of Seattle, WA, dabbling in poetry, choreography, and acrylics during the interim between undergrad and grad school
Visit her on the web here: mindsplotch.blogspot.com

The following work is Copyright © 2007, and owned by Jennifer L and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.

My bed needs to be harder

The soft spot between awake and sleep
Where crooked fascinations
And oddities creep forward
Entangling my brain
Rushing my heart
Twitching the red fibers
Vision locked forward
As images dance behind now useless eyelids
Because my eyes are not mine
Intentions are found for me
Hopes are sent on sterocidal pathways down my spine

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