Executioner
in the middle of this field you cannot dream
only sit and stare beyond the fence barely
a girl and barely from heaven
the sandpit swirls slow like
a mother’s arm checking the temperature
of a bath
but you were never a baby born
never waxed and threaded in the fit of a
women's clothes
the sun’s dry heat is a switch without leaves
(its flaying)
the only spoil you know
Ahja Fox can be found around Denver, Colorado reading at various events, cheering on her community, or co-hosting Art of Storytelling. She is an assistant poetry editor for Copper Nickel and Homology Lit and publishes in online and print journals like Five:2:One, LEVELER, Driftwood Press, Rigorous, Okay Donkey, The Perch (Yale), and more. She has also been included in the 2018 Punch Drunk Anthology, YANYR Anthology, and Reclaim: An Anthology of Women’s Poetry. Follow and contact Ahja on Instagram or Twitter at aefoxx.
Other Works
2 Stories
by Rebecca Gransden
... Overhead the sun sheds a skin, and it plops to the water, and sinks. Now, brighter, the star. It shines out rotten blood ...
In Which I Get Saved
by Kelsey Ipsen
... Jesus opens his eyes and I pretend that I haven’t been looking at him. I bet he plays piano. I bet he smiles real slow and full. I bet he loves kittens ...