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AR #56 Cover
number 56

by Eugenie Juliet Theall


These is a bee with a spiked stinger, a fist tightened
white to the bone, a mouth with a box cutter
flushed against its cheek every time she contradicts
her father, a philosopher whose beliefs contradicted
the government's. She anticipates his knee-jerk reaction-
they can't go home. So she dreams of casting a net
over terra cotta roof tops to salvage whole towns,
bits of El Salvadorian earth and sand, to remember
the taste of fried plantains and ripe mangoes. Her father
never placed silver dollars on her eyelids, saved her
from that deep sleep, but she wasn't young enough
to forget the red wave that washed over the peasants
and their plows, washed over the rebels and their machetes.
Now, when she dreams, she follows seagulls as they tumble
through threads of sunset into a fishnet full of stars
where she can safely unzip the sky.

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