2 poems

by Jenna Mather

woman as Icarus

When I was a girl,

I was too obsessed

with making myself;

I wanted to construct

some flying machine

made of bird-wing

feathers and duct

tape that would

transform unreachable

clouds into steps

for my small feet.

So I read all about

old plane cylinders

and bird bones, until

I learned I needed to

be hollow if I ever

wanted to be free.

afterlife

Some life I’ll have,

away from here.

Maybe I’ll dance

on the beach naked

& drunk until sand

fills my bellybutton;

I’ll eat pancakes

every morning &

butter them in sunshine,

chew raw sugar 

crystals without

ever growing rot

in my teeth. Or maybe I’ll

wish for the hard

ache of Tuesday,

cooking a thankless

meal on sore feet;

maybe I’ll envelop

my body in seawater

& wish it was you.

Jenna Mather is a graduate of the University of Iowa, where she studied English and creative writing. With her stories and poems, she aims to untangle the complexities of love, womanhood, and the writing life. On any given day, you can find her in a coffee shop—or online at @_jennamather and jennamather.com.