IN MEADOWS
by Brittany West
To them we are shadows
That twist, turn and shout–
Fading black meadows
Of soul inside turned out.
Sometimes I go dumb,
Speech sits in my mouth,
It claws as an animal
And thrashes about.
To them in the meadows
That twist, turn and sprout–
Fading black souls
Of which outsides turn out.
The animal, a bass drum
Blasts beats in my mouth,
Brain waves incompatible,
Change travels about.
But to them we are shadows
That twist, turn and shout–
Fading black meadows
Of soul inside turned out.
LOOK UP, CHRISTIAN
Grandmother sat shotgun
Resting her elbow in the center,
And I sat behind her
Slunk on my back
In front of an open refrigerator door
As the cool escaped
Of its dust mouth.
She,
Unfamiliar world passing by,
Untouched by memory,
A runaway bride
My curiosity long yearned to undress
Spiraling into the dark,
Though I would’ve tossed her sooner.
She,
Be her a nun or a whore,
Is made homely by ownership,
As if hexed by a witch,
Her cotton candy magic
Curls in with the branches
Which thorn up and tear in.
With a sigh, I move along
But now it is quiet
With the absence of despair,
So I wind my hair in,
Turn to the side,
Curl in the curve of the magnet moon
And go along for the ride:
About The Author
LA County native Brittany D. West, otherwise known as Dani West, is a psychology student minoring in creative writing. The former college newspaper and magazine editor presently writes short stories, poetry, and is working on a novel. Her current goals are to obtain her Ph.D, start a non-profit and most relevantly, to never stop writing.
She currently lives in San Francisco, CA and attends City College of San Francisco.
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