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dancing girl press, 2014
$7.00 Jennifer Martin was born in the desert, but now lives in Kansas in a small town by a river and a famous prison. She likes trains, dilapidated buildings, abandoned spaces, and uncovering the surreality of the Mid-West. When she’s not watching House Hunters International, she loves analyzing her dreams with used dream-analysis books found at thrift stores. She writes short experimental fiction and poetry on her blog, A Warmer Place For Starving. Sometimes she writes for The Kindred Collective, a weekly-themed art blog. You can follow her @stellarestrella. TERRA INCOGNITA Your astronomy is wrong And that Dog has led us astray This is no fairytale Stomachs scream for crumbs I don’t recognize you anymore You look like an instrument of this wasteland Do I also? I am afraid to look at my arms, afraid they resemble the rotting limbs Fallen from all the trees in this forest of sullen amputees There is no way home Everything is painted with ash We can bend our bodies into doors and hope they lead the way . |