They overhear but don’t understand a man moving his mouth I’m writing a script about a girl who’s afraid of cars! A Mercury Cougar glazes past, red, and parks. They touch their noses to convertible hoods. Who will give them a hamburger today? What car will they leap, brown-fixed, these deer farouche— spray-painted flanks—necks tagged… [Read More]
Cynthia Arrieu-King is an assistant professor of creative writing at Stockton College and a former fellow at Kundiman. Her poems have appeared in Boston Review, Sonora Review, typo, and Forklift, Ohio.