Karyna McGlynn is the author of three chapbooks: Scorpionica (New Michigan Press, 2007), Alabama Steve (Destructible Heart Press, 2008) and Small Shrines (Cinematheque Press, forthcoming). Her first full-length collection, I Have to Go Back to 1994 and Kill a Girl, received the 2008 Kathryn A. Morton Prize for Poetry (Sarabande, 2009). Her poems have appeared in Fence, Gulf Coast, Willow Springs, Indiana Review, Denver Quarterly, CutBank, and Ninth Letter. She lives in Austin, Texas, with multimedia artist Adam Theriault.
The fox had no face the loggermen said
they rolled a barrelful of something muffled
down the back of a mountain
what white thing she tucked between her legs
there were spiders hatching inside her mattress
we said that's not what's hatching
she opened her mouth to call her father inside
a small pile of salt fell out
she was wearing a nightdress the color of pistachios
I wanted to throw her over my shoulder
she was too heavy and my arms were marmalade
she pointed to the boulder under the creek
right where the rope swing dropped off
it looked like the skull bone of Paul Bunyan's blue ox
a sudden sickness of red algae bloomed to the surface
the current licked itself clean in a second
A Red Tricycle in the Belly of the Pool
the live oak over the nursery got a disease
they could only save one limb
it wasn't surprising; it wasn't that kind of nursery
a girl rode her red tricycle around the bottom of the pool
the pool had no water; it hadn't rained
the girl kept smelling her hand
it smelled like honeywheat, or the inside of a girl's panties
someone said, race you
she nodded okay and pedaled like hell
after three laps no one had passed her
she looked over her shoulder, lost her balance
ripped her hands & knees on the blue concrete
the one limb on the live oak curved like a question
would she need stitches again
there was already ink under her skin & iodine on her tongue
or was it the other way around
she could see black thread bunching
sewing centipedes under her skin
her throat burned and she couldn't move her legs
it wasn't a tricycle
it was something she couldn't get her foot out from under
she hated to stop or lose her shoe and, I'm sorry
the pool was full of water
Very Lovely Karina.
I adore You.