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My Skin, My Sanity
by Kat Duff
When I turned fifty, the only scar on my body was the thin trace of an incision on my right thumb where a doctor removed a sliver when I was nine
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The Eater of Grass
by Jada Ach
I know the essence of soil:
how it waxes the gums and
caulks between teeth, how
it tastes like the green lingering
of the almost-dead –
because on that day when they
held out my arms like wings,
like Jesus, and showed me what
lust could do when aided by
force, I felt like Malinche
receiving the sex of Cortés,
tenderly and almost willingly –
and I marveled at how the layers,
rich hues of brown antiquity,
could erode and dissolve inside of me.
 Jada Ach Since graduating from Ball State University in 2003 with a double major in English and Spanish, I have lived in three time zones, four states, and six cities. Currently, I am working and writing in Chicago; however, in August 2005 I will hit the highway once again to pursue a Master’s Degree in English at Northern Arizona University in Flagstaff, Arizona.
The cultural and geographical landscapes of South America, Mexico, and the American Southwest frequently emerge in my poetry, as I have spent much time traveling in these areas. When encountering new communities and cultures, I am forced to rely on tastes, smells, and images at a greater intensity in an attempt to relate them to something familiar. My poetry gives me the space to discover these zones of connection and disconnection, granting me a different perspective of who I am and how I relate to the world.
Published works:
El Once de Septiembre en Córdoba. Barnwood Press Magazine. (Fall 2004)
Newspapers. Ball State Women and the Arts Festival. (Spring 2002)
Bus Window. MTCup Review. (Spring 2002) |
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