Maternity by Sue Churchill
“Maternity” by Sue Churchill My daughter has a job interview so I am bargaining with God recklessly trading away all pearls of happiness, the ones I sought so long in the dark depths, holding my breath to bursting. It’s not just one or two I concede, it’s all and any and ever. I throw in the ewes, the lambs I looked for early and late, the one I fished for in the wet darkness of the mother, its clammy form a...
Regina by Valerie Speedwell
“Regina” by Valerie Speedwell Regina is a blend of poetry and jazz, performance and lyrics, offensive, full of swagger, she found the world on fire and threw more flame on it, thick girl, addicted to jelly rolls and pies, the expanse of her spilling over chairs and benches and edges of things, fat but hungry for more because what they feeding her not filling her, dark-eyed girl, color of pitch, one tooth...
Eagle Girl by Claire McCabe
“Eagle Girl” by Claire McCabe We inhale the scent of the stable horse sweat, hay, leather, incense linking my childhood to my daughter’s. She kisses Feather’s velvet nose as she buckles the bridle. The grey gelding shifts his feet, accepts the weight of the saddle. I hoist her up, then lead the pair into sunshine. We both exclaim at the bald eagle overhead. Here, miles from the bay, the raptor soars above our...
Editor’s Note, Diane Gilliam
EDITOR’S NOTE: TO READERS AND CONTRIBUTORS The work you have in your hand comes to you from many places, through many voices and many lives. The impulse to hold these voices and lives together in a book of their own was born in New Mexico, from A Room of Her Own Foundation, whose mission has always been to bring women together in service of their own collective wisdom and creativity–to share what can be shared, and to...
Body II by Jendi Reiter
“Body II” by Jendi Reiter I would have to become nobody before I told you these things. Put my soul into a doll. A lampshade with fuzzy tassels on it. I would have to learn to knit for hours. Become someone whose mind was filled with pink stitches. I would have to be a whore on the boulevard. Wash my thighs in the same puddle that the cars rolled over. There is no way I would tell you these things wearing my...
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the conch Mar 27, 2026 -
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