By Monica Wendel
Gilgo Beach
We were so sick from dope
my mom had to fly from New York
to take care of us in the hotel
one woman was my friend, Shane
but the other women
had been murdered out on Long Island
by some John
years ago
so how could they be here
if they were dead
when we got more heroin
I told Shane
this was the happiest I’ve ever been
we were in Panama, it was so hot
but everything felt right
even the crowded bars we rolled through
looking to score
worrying about the next score
before I woke up
we sang karaoke together
the whole dream
was much more frightening
than this makes it sound –
because when I was high, I dreaded the death
coming for the women
and when I wasn’t high, I was sick
I woke and though of my ex-boyfriend
the summer that it was so hot
and I had poison ivy
all over my legs
yellow puss bubbling up
he picked rhubarb out of his parents’ garden
broke open the poisonous leaf
and rubbed it on my skin for relief
and we bathed in salt water
that stung the open sores
things heal, of course
the poison ivy went away
but I catch it so easily
and always in heat
alone, though
I’m scared to rub poison on poison
Maria Hernandez Park
To get inside
you have to pass through the gate
of Jehovah’s Witnesses
At home the gas is turned off
we eat pesto sandwiches
and cold brew coffee
Last night Mom and I drove over a bridge
on the other side was a steep hill
We rode down
I was driving
The exit ramp said Kidney Failure
like we were going so far into the valley
that the air pressure would damage us
Mom told me
to stop telling people my dreams
I woke up before you
when it was still dark
and watered the plants on the roof:
basil, cosmos, tomatoes,
added coffee grounds to compost
When you woke you called me back to bed
I told you what my mom said
Maybe that means it’s time to go back to sleep,
you said
They’ll turn the gas on in a few days
after the check is posted
sometimes I turn the knob
just to hear the clickclick the stove makes
without lighting
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Monica Wendel is the author of No Apocalypse, which was selected by Bob Hicok as the winner of the Georgetown Review Press Poetry Prize and published by the press in 2013. She is also the author of two chapbooks, Pioneer (Thrush Press, 2014) and Call it a Window (Midwest Writing Center, 2012). A graduate of NYU’s MFA in Creative Writing Program, she has taught creative writing at Goldwater Hospital, St. Mary’s Health Care Center for Kids, and NYU, and is now an assistant professor of composition and creative writing at St. Thomas Aquinas College. Her poems have appeared in the Bellevue Literary Review, Rattle, Drunken Boat, Forklift Ohio, Spoon River Poetry Review, and other journals. In spring 2013, she was the Writer in Residence at the Jack Kerouac Project of Orlando, Florida.
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