MER VOX QUARTERLY – SUMMER 2019 INTERVIEW: KEISHA GAYE-ANDERSON Curation and interview by JP Howard POETRY AND ART BY KEISHA-GAYE ANDERSON POETRY FOLIO: MOTHERHOOD AND GUILT Curated by Jennifer Martelli and Cindy Veach Marjorie Maddox, Rebecca Hart Olander,…
Motherhood and Guilt A MER VOX Folio Curated by Jennifer Martelli and Cindy Veach Is guilt inevitable when a mother spends time focusing on something other than her child/children? Is feeling guilty just part of the deal – one of…
Interview, Poetry and Artwork featuring Keisha-Gaye Anderson Folio curated by JP Howard for Mom Egg Review VOX Online JP – Congratulations on your new books! I know that Everything is Necessary has just been published by Willow Books and…
Art by Naomi Lawrence I admit I cyber-stalked Naomi Lawrence. Her flower creations started appearing around El Barrio, in NYC, about 2014, on metal fences; bright spots of improbably large flowers floating in front of abandoned lots. Blue…
E. Kristin Anderson Southern Cold Tonight I want to take my feet beyond the answers, just as wild as the television. I keep writing. This bitter mouth shook your name from home, slowly here. And the room is throwing…
Cheryl Clark Vermeulen The Suckling Leading Lady Let’s say Homer is a woman (Shakespeare for that matter) and an eye is burned through on a figurehead swollen with water. Splitting across an arm or a leg, desire has fallen…
Megan Leonard POEM WRITTEN WHILE I WAIT IN THE COLD ROOM AFTER THE NURSES HAVE GONE OUT BUT BEFORE THE DOCTOR COMES IN Megan Leonard’s poetry can be found most recently in Sharkpack Annual, Transom, and Reservoir. Her digital…
Rebecca Hart Olander Dysmorphia I’ve been a Super-8 movie camera in a pond trying to film my confidence, a wife, and a conversation full of silences. My job was to make things up. I have proof. Home: butter, salt, mirrors,…
Jules Jacob Broken Sonnet for Relapsing Daughters this song was yours clean without loss or metaphors yet comfort’s counterpart is pain is what I can’t spare us, is what quits speaking and walking, sinking to the carpet…
Marjorie Maddox Regret I was so tired of stepping in it until it rose to my ankles, my calves, clinging to my shins like tar as I tugged my unshaven limbs this way and that, so, so tired of…