beaded trout

PRAYER TO THE LAST TIME

YOU WALKED OUT ON ME IN A BAR

Yes, Memory,
I am easy to leave.
Forgettable, dun-colored,

so
small. Remnant

of what we found in the ditch
inside discarded ice chests,
supplicant of your

buyer's remorse. we are twins
in the womb, perpetually we hug
because of constraint.

We are the highway-
-markers, virginity in orbit,
the hundred billion years

before the sun was ever warm enough
for life. You never leave,
but when I ask you to stay my mouth

is cotton, my mouth is caught
on the chipped lip of a bad pint glass.
Say goodbye, first.

banish
the burned neck,
the small, small scar.

Kenzie Allen


contents of issue 7

Sweeping Away
Rain C. Gomez

Semper Fidelis
John D. Berry

To the White Woman Who Told Me,
Misty Shipman Ellingburg

untied
Martin Hinkel

PRAYER TO THE LAST TIME
Kenzie Allen

washing dirt
Gary Gach

Busted
Linda Boyden

We circle the tipi one time
Juanita Padopony


Kenzie Allen Biography

Kenzie Allen is a descendant of the Oneida Tribe of Indians of Wisconsin. Her work can be found in Sonora Review, Drunken Boat, The Iowa Review and elsewhere, and she is the managing editor of the Anthropoid collective. She was born in West Texas.


Permission to publish poems in this one context was granted by the authors, who unless otherwise specified, hold copyright on these works.