Summer 2016: Poetry
Zygote
by Nancy Flynn
~considering a snapshot dated March 1955
You were, of course, but one more barely
thought. Never hypothesis, never
a two-fingered wishbone, crossed. And, yes
what predictable spin, un/kissed. Oh,
umbilical-veined, one more maelstrom
of the one meets one. Beyond the chintz,
beyond the tatted planes of lace and
bloodying dots, her frock of cinching
disarray. And him of the spit-shined
Sunday shoes, that jittery suit. Six
stitches to fix the gash where her fore-
head hit the glass after he veered to
avoid a rushing wrong-lane car. How
lucky! A miracle! Saved! The first,
all original, scarred. Not long till
the flashbulbs blink and wink and beg for
the doll to open her blues and grin.
You of the one plus one equaled one.
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Meet the fabulous women behind the voices and visions of our ninth issue. |