What Rough Beast | Poem for December 21, 2018

I.S. Jones
Snapshot, 1992

Before permanence touched the reach of memory,
when I was barely tall enough for adult kneecaps,

there is a picture of you placing me on the kitchen table
wiping frosting from my mouth.

I am giggling, all baby teeth and bare gums.

You still have hair,
still young and kind,

still some variation of healthy.
Then I imagine you were invincible.

 

 

I.S. Jones is an American-Nigerian poet, educator, and music journalist from Southern California by way of New York. She is a fellow with BOAAT Writer’s Retreat, Callaloo, and is a Graduate Fellow with The Watering Hole. Jones is Assistant Editor at Voicemail Poetry as well as Managing Editor at Dead End Hip Hop. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Rumpus, The Harpoon Review, The Blueshift Journal, SunDog Lit, Matador Review, great weather for MEDIA, The Offing, Anomalous Press, The Shade Journal, Puerto Del Sol, Nat.Brut, and elsewhere.

SUBMIT to What Rough Beast via our SUBMITTABLE site.