Author: Meg Eden

lucy did not have
opposable toes. lucy
had socks on, and she walked
with the outside of her foot because
of the limp, a birth-defect. she was ex-
communicated because of her cartoonish
ape-like features. she had to carry
her freak-child on her back and walk
for a very long time.
lucy had long arms that dragged
dangerously near the ground, stretched
like a gumbi rag doll. lucy had
a lover for two days, who beat her
with a metal rod, the first tool—
lucy looked at the hair covering
her genitalia and wondered
what it meant to be a woman.

lucy was a hagar, carrying an ishmael
through the desert, but God did not
save lucy this time. lucy and child collapsed
with an eroding cliff, their bodies
consumed by rubble, their bones
broken into fine pieces like bread,
and all that could be found
were moments of indiscernible dust,
which could mean just about anything.

 

Contributor’s Notes: Meg Eden’s work has been published in various magazines, been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, and received the 2012 Henrietta Spiegel Creative Writing Award. She was a reader for the Delmarva Review. Her collections include “Your Son” (The Florence Kahn Memorial Award) and “Rotary Phones and Facebook” (Dancing Girl Press). She teaches at the University of Maryland. Check out her work at: http://artemisagain.wordpress.com/

They call me weak
eyes, don’t expect
passion or a man
to call me Beautiful.

Dad sold me the way
shops sell overstock,
discount cans that sit
on the shelves too long.

But when I bear my son,
I will know my salvation.
When I feed you my breasts,
maybe your hunger will
resolve and you will eat
me, only—

I bore the veil like a hot
iron, spread my legs in
duty. Your heaviness caved
into my bones. In my mouth,
the fulfillment of your inmost
being. You moan, desiring Rachel—

Break and enter my body.
I will paint my offerings over
my tits and you will bite. I
will lay like an invalid, prepared
to milk your needs. And I will
feed. And I will be fed.

 
Contributor’s Notes: Meg Eden’s work has been published in various magazines, been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, and received the 2012 Henrietta Spiegel Creative Writing Award. She was a reader for the Delmarva Review. Her collections include “Your Son” (The Florence Kahn Memorial Award) and “Rotary Phones and Facebook” (Dancing Girl Press). She teaches at the University of Maryland. Check out her work at: http://artemisagain.wordpress.com/

—To the Absence of a Full Play

Sophocles, though you
and Antigone survived—
at least, in your own
ways—others were not
so looked upon with blessings,
and as I read the names
of your one hundred and so
still-born children, fragments of
papyrus scrolls, I look through
my own writing and wonder
which of my poems will be
saved, if any—for how
can I, how can any of us know,
if those who come after us
will deem us great, mad, or worse—
they will deem us as unknown.

 

Contributor’s Notes: Meg Eden’s work has been published in various magazines, been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, and received the 2012 Henrietta Spiegel Creative Writing Award. She was a reader for the Delmarva Review. Her collections include “Your Son” (The Florence Kahn Memorial Award) and “Rotary Phones and Facebook” (Dancing Girl Press). She teaches at the University of Maryland. Check out her work at: http://artemisagain.wordpress.com/