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Amanda Roth

Down to the River to Pray

​The river is an empty, wide palm
long closed to a fist. In my pocket,
there are stones. It is dawn and the truth is that
I no longer pray. Still, I am here
because I heard a rumor
that a woman can learn to unfold
her body from the machines. So I lay myself out
in the mud and measure the day bird by bird: cardinals
when I have grown weary
of sleeping, sparrows as I begin to hunger.
What is a promised land
without water? How long have I
known that the cost of being a woman
is this pocket full of stones?
I was a child when they baptized me, held me
under. Now I am becoming
the woman they’ve always wanted drowned.
The sun burns and a red shouldered
hawk nears. Everything on these banks is insatiable
hunger, myself included. With each bird,
each shade of daylight seared into my skin,
I feel myself slipping
into another body. Untethered,
the wind begins to howl. What is there to eat?
A trio of vulture circles; the sky
hangs black and suffocating.
I hear the trees pray for water; I hear
my arms scissor through the dark.

Biography

Picture
Amanda Roth (she/her) is a poet and folklorist living in Central Texas. Her debut poetry collection, A Mother's Hunger, was released in 2021. She is published or forthcoming with Portland Review, Hayden's Ferry Review, the lickety~split, MAYDAY, and elsewhere. On Twitter @amandarothpoet and on the web https://msha.ke/amandarothpoetry
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    • Issue 25
    • Issue 24
    • Issue 23
    • Issue 22
    • Issue 21
    • Issue 20
    • Issue 19
    • Issue 18
    • Serenity
    • Issue 17
    • The Audio Room
    • Issue 16
    • Issue 15
    • Issue 14
    • Play It Again
    • Issue 13
    • Issue 12
    • Issue 11
    • Issue 10
    • Issue 9
    • Issue 8
    • Issue 7
    • Issue 6
    • Hand to Mouth
    • Issue 5
    • Issue 4
    • Issue 3
    • Issue 2
    • Issue 1
  • Submissions