poetryrepairs 16.02:022

JESSICA BELL : City Suicide
JESSICA BELL : Last One Standing

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JESSICA BELL
City Suicide

so tired … my eyes won’t even cross— stitch to form double vision blur. your jagged voices poke into my lungs, my head, injured housing. domestic fights—spite in fancy dress, cash, tucked under my mattress … no: floorboards; no … tax man’s brand new yacht. my head … throbs. digital spools of … threaded, comments … news reports, keep knot—OUCH!—ing rational forms of thought. Don’t touch me! I pull the trigger, when I wake to you, half-dressed in the cold crowd; the government’s ineptitude a razor to my wrist.

poetryrepairs #221 16.02:022





JESSICA BELL
The Only One Left Standing

I’m weighed down by a thick need tangled between a man who doesn’t care a waitress who seems to care and a conscience that cares too much. Cuban tunes lace Mexican dreams; cloud the reality I left behind tucked under a cushion on our dirty cream suede couch. I sip my margarita, watch them dance feel the thump, the twang, taste the tang. Senioritas twirl, orange skirts become a blur behind the mumble and slur of his speech. Then I remember. I’m still in Greece. In the restaurant near the bus stop. The only one left standing.

poetryrepairs #221 16.02:022





JESSICA BELL
Mama’s Confession

My nails aren’t strong enough to scratch you anymore, Antoni mou. I suppose you’re relieved. The old maid’s weapons are blunt; brittle—painted with layers and layers of pearl varnish, disguising the fungus I’ve spent years trying to remove; to hide from patrons’ judgmental view. Remember when you said it grew to match your blood stains? You believed every time I ripped your shirts, the infection would reappear. It was punishment for not feeling, I guess. I don’t watch the news anymore. But I’d like you to know, I will write until you’ve lived your thirteen lives. I hope prison treats you better than I did.




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REPAIR: resort, frequent or habitual going; concourse or confluence of people at or in a place; making one's way; to go, betake oneself, to arrive; return to a place; to dwell; to recover, heal, or cure; to renew; to fix to original condition. -- Oxford English Dictionary


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JESSICA BELL is an Australian writing and publishing coach, novelist, poet, and singer/songwriter/guitarist who lives in Athens, Greece. In addition to her novels, poetry collections, and her bestselling “Writing in a Nutshell” series, she has published a variety of works online and in literary journals and anthologies, including Writer’s Digest and Australia’s Cordite Review. She is also the Publisher of Vine Leaves Literary Journal.

JESSICA BELL


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