I’m halfway home to Bed-Stuy
when I feel the cervical cramp.
I was told they’d be getting worse
I came when you were born,
but soon the flying stopped.
By the time I came again,
we drove in private cars
By ALDO AMPARÁN
Is he a saguaro burning in the desert’s shadow—or a sidewinder’s tracks on sand—
Have I left footprints in the snow of his dreaming—
And if you have no coins or skyscraper,
then parachute from your mind into blossom,
Left untrained,
the bitter melon’s taken over
the mulberry, dusting it
Even if the sky collapses, there will be a hole in it.
Korean proverb
Our cat died before the towers fell.
I’m writing this from lockdown on a day
when the dogwood throws out its dose
of darker pink. The schoolyard
for the black women who died for motherhood
how long has my womb ached
to carry half of my laugh gently
New work from our contributors: ARVIND KRISHNA MEHROTRA, DAVID LEHMAN, and MATT DONOVAN.
Arvind Krishna Mehrotra | “The Walk”
David Lehman | “Just a Couple of Mugs”
Matt Donovan | “Portrait of America as a Philadelphia Derringer Abraham Lincoln Assassination Box Set Replica”
The Walk
By Arvind Krishna Mehrotra
In a tree hollow like a cave mouth,
in which you and your partner
selfied yourselves, is a trash bag
oozing trash juice.
New poems from our contributors JORDAN HONEYBLUE, ROBERT WOOD LYNN, BENJAMIN PALOFF, and LYNNE THOMPSON.
Table of Contents:
Jordan Honeyblue | free it.
Robert Wood Lynn | Peepers in February
Benjamin Paloff | Of Vanity
Lynne Thompson | Paradise: 579
Don’t miss an issue! Subscribe to The Common.
Celebrating 15 Years