Ten minutes into our Zoom interview I notice
a hole in my sleeve, and it is sliding down
my arm, not in a good way,
definitely not a hey, sailor-ish way,
more of a, “she has but twenty dollars
to her name” way. You clear your throat,
shuffle some papers, and If I was a
New Orleans seagull,
I would stuff myself with beignets
and vomit gently over your posh Knoll steel desk.
Trish Saunders’s poetry is featured or forthcoming in Chiron Review, Off The Coast, The Rye Whiskey Review, The American Journal of Poetry, Eunoia Review, among others. Twice nominated (never winning) for Best of the Net, she lives in Seattle, formerly Honolulu.
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