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      February 15, 2019For My Sister, the FeministJefferson Carter

      You told me
      I can’t imagine
      what it’s like
      being a woman.
       
      But I can
      imagine being a horse,
      a thoroughbred trained
      against her nature
      to outrun the safety
      of the herd.
       
      I can imagine
      being a spoon, a loaf
      of bread, a hummingbird,
      even a werewolf,
      in-grown hairs & all.
      Why not a woman?
       
      Don’t you remember
      the night you woke up
      sobbing & I left
      my bed down the hall
      to hold your hand
      until you fell back to sleep?

      from #62 - Winter 2018

      Jefferson Carter

      “As a poet, I’m an opportunist, not a writer with a project. Whatever tickles my fancy I write about, an exhilarating evening out with a poet friend or a dream about my younger sister. In grad school, I fell in love with Jonathan Swift; forty years later, I still must control my satirical bent to shield whatever is tender in my poems.”

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