Elizabeth Jenike poems

Editor back-issues, poetry

Swallowing Sounds Like Boiling Water  I can feel a wordcrawling up my esophaguslike tequilain a red dressor the kitchen tablethat I swallowed whenmy grandmother died. I should have slipped intothe word when I married,or when I learned tomeasure coffee,or when I first shrankfrom small hands, small toes. One day, it will becomemore than a word.It will be a songa eulogya dissertation.It will be…

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