A WWS Publication Roundup for April

A personal note this time around: I hope this post finds you and your loved ones healthy and safe during these trying times. I’m glad to be able to share this roundup and to be part of such a supportive community. Congrats to the published writers and be well to all! Laura

From Lisa Eve Cheby‘s “Taking Stock” at Verse-Virtual:

I conduct inventory: 
Chad and Ed are sick, Priya is better, 
Doug is improved, Jon is still healthy. 
A friend’s father died, 
as did a stranger’s. 
Widows forced to grieve alone. 

From “Modern Archaeology” by Lituo Huang at Mineral Lit Mag:

Modern archaeology’s been around for 100 years, give or take.
When I die, my bones might be preserved for
 
the future to find. But let’s face it, my chances
are slim: The bodies on Everest will outlast mine.

Congrats to Carla Sameth who had three poems – “​LA Stories: Urban Mountain Lion, South African Transplant,” “Bruised Arms” and “Dreaming Sobriety” published at Anti-Heroin Chic. From “LA Stories: Urban Mountain Lion, South African Transplant”:

You didn’t want to come here. Los Angeles took you. Down to the basement, near Parker
Center and the Deja Vu Strip Club, next to the new marijuana mall. Where tourists take
photos and buy souvenirs while freshly tatted dazzling dispensary girls sell them strains
with names like “Flying Monkey” and “Ganja Goddess.”

From Stephanie Abraham‘s “In the World to Change It” at the Los Angeles Review of Books:

[LINDA SARSOUR’s] new book, We Are Not Here to Be Bystanders: A Memoir of Love and Resistance, maps her journey from growing up as an outspoken oldest child of immigrants to former executive director of the Arab American Association of New York and national co-chair of the Women’s March.

From Helena Lipstadt‘s “Speaking to the Dead; my mother didn’t whistle; Not Asking” at Cathexis Northwest Press:

Let me not be thief of your story   let me paint a still life 
of names you stand over me and below me I inhale the shimmer
of your breath I will not betray your blame

From Désirée Zamorano‘s “Death in the Neighborhood” at Terrain:

As I write I am sitting in my front yard patio, a tiny courtyard well-defined by a surrounding low stucco wall. The wall reminds me that I am good at boundaries, from years of struggling with an over-identifying, tiny and close-knit family of origin, from years spent “individuating,” as a young woman, carving out my private life, my secrets. In this shaded area I can hide under the camellia trees, watch people walk their dogs, listen to the chirruping of the birds, follow a pair of hummingbirds as they build their discreet nest, be both simultaneously public and private. It’s the same patio where my reclusive friend Liv, once and only once, shared a pitcher of Manhattans with me.

Also from Désirée, “Census 2020: A Quiz,” at Lady/Liberty/Lit:

Quizzes can be a way to get to know yourself better. Please self-identify to the best of your ability.

1. During apartheid in South Africa these would be your choices. Choose the one that best describes you:

a) White
b) Black
c) Coloured
d) Indian or Asian

From Noriko Nakada‘s “California” at The Nasiona:

Every second of the drive to California for summer vacation feels heavy, weighted down just like our car, packed tight with the six of us, suitcases stretching at their zippers, and the big cooler stuffed full of snacks. Dad drives the station wagon along cool mountain passes, past Lake Shasta, and into a desert valley where the sky is clear and the hot sun pounds through the windows. There is nothing to see except hills that look like blankets thrown over sleeping giants. I watch for something to change, but nothing has looked different for hours.

Also from Noriko, “How Do We Count Our Dead?” at bitter melon:

By breaths lost
loved ones left behind
accomplishments in life
shades of acquired fame?

Congrats to Noriko whose essays, “Vegas Indulgences” and “At Home in America” were published in Lady/Liberty/Lit and in Mom Egg Review!

From “A Relative Stole the Baby Name I Wanted to Use, but in the End I Was Thankful” by Rachael Rifkin at Good Housekeeping:

When my mom died a year and a half before I got pregnant, however, the names we’d chosen no longer seemed relevant. We knew if I eventually got pregnant, we’d name our child after my mom.

From Ryane Nicole Granados‘ “Peter Harris and Adenike Harris: This Father and Daughter Confronted Pain and Healed Together” at LA Parent:

They say it never rains in Southern California, but on a recent day clouds hovered over the hotel lobby where I sat in a corner booth sipping hot chocolate and eating breakfast sandwiches with Peter Harris and Adenike Harris, the father-daughter team behind Popsn’Ade, a project they started in 2016 to help others heal through creativity and call-and-response dialogue.

From Melissa Chadburn‘s “The Forgotten Babies” at Alta:

It was the summer of dead babies. At night I sat drowning in coroners’ reports and case files. Coyotes frolicked in the wash behind my house. Dry by summer, it held remnants of snow play—bright yellow and electric-blue plastic bits of toboggans. Brittle palo verdes littered with refuse from teenage parties, things like bottle caps and empty bags of chips. The hour of molting. The wildlings came in groups of three and four—clearing the mean ash-green pincushions and devil’s fingers in gleeful jumps. They danced, silhouetted against the black. Bats twisted above.

From Ashunda Norris‘ “On Watching Surviving R. Kelly” at Trampoline Poetry:

you understand nothing if you do not
have to imagine your own abuse replay
every time another blk girl opens her mouth
upturned & over complete

Congrats to Ashunda, who had two poems “Grandma’s Hands” and “The Book of Generation(s) of the Negress,” published in La Presa Issue 9!

Congrats to Rachel Sona Reed for her review of “Sociolinguistic variation in children’s language: Acquiring community norms” at Cambridge University Press!

Congratulations to Janel Pineda who had three poems, “English” “Rain” and “In Another Life,” published in The BreakBeat Poets Vol. 4: LatiNext published by Haymarket Books!

Check out Tanya Ko Hong‘s National Poetry Month 30 days project on Youtube!