Wildfire Smoke Plume
Matt Mutiva
In this promised air, gray is invincible
another winter turned pale
tomorrow, we’ll glide to another landing spot
revving across the desert, fighting
to defend something roughly the size of Massachusetts
maybe I am faster and more maneuverable
singing happy birthday to my daughters
whose faces march away from me
the memory of them blowing out their candles, redeployed,
airburst white, mingling
with low-level cumulus clouds
I'd take cover
when they white phosphorus Gaza
and my body drops like an empty canister
in the clutches of everything red
Matt Mutiva is a regular guy who writes what he can when he can. And when he can't, he writes anyway. If he's lucky, they'll call it poetry.
Jesse Lee Kercheval is a writer, translator, and graphic artist. Her recent books include the short story collection Underground Women and La crisis es el cuerpo, a bilingual edition of her poetry, translated by Ezequiel Zaidenwerg, published in Argentina by Editorial Bajo la luna. Her recent graphic narratives, comics and art have appeared in Waxwing, The Quarantine Public Library, On the Seawall, Sweet Lit, and New Letters.