Gears shift, up, down
park, drive, neutral, drive, park
apparitions coast over, under
click, clack, squeal, click, clack
and I
I’m still here
A lil’ new, a lil’ old,
a lot whole
no more parts surfing on wind-threads
no more slices trampled at every turn
no more edges scraping tin-walls
no I
I’m here.
Sonia Chintha is an Indian American writer who lives in the Washington DC area. She blogs, writes poetry, and fiction. She is also an English teacher who believes that our experiences teach us more than any test. She is the founder and co-editor of Good Little Girls.
the trumpet sounds–high like a solo bird crossing the sky the notes float out arching in the air urging you to move heads slowly turn
To Those Who Stole My Autonomy:
I stand a sturdy sixty inches; mostly fat,
a rumbling glacier
threatening civilization’s end.
a grown-ass brown woman
standing outside your pretty bougie house
of perfectly manicured lawns, stainless white fences.
I inhale your stories straight to my bloodline, into my heart. It’s a