Bringing food for my
husband but none for me,
my mother-in-law is a foil
to my mindful mater
who feeds us both.
in a dining room
that I paid for,
they eat store-bought sushi
and smile like wicked cats
swallowing sentient birds.
I’m hurt but thankful
for the fridge in my house
because if I lived in his,
I’d be unnourished
and naked in a chamber
where my bones
are picked over
consumers of soul.
A mother sparrow killed herself with the door.
Beckoned by light or some other confusion,
her beak after a blunt smack. I scooped her up
and dumped her in the mum-filled flower pot,
the best I could do for a fall funeral.
Glass doors and steep stairs could kill a mother and infant.
What a nightmare to drop a child. So we added a bottom suite
for safety. Clichéd as the saying, “don’t put the cart before
the horse,” we put the nursery before the baby.
Because we conceived once, didn’t mean we would again.
A reflection of a cloud doesn’t mean sky.
Waiting on you made a fool out of me. Your almost daddy left,
unable to handle the empty space where I stand looking into
one of the mirrors above the his and hers sink. I’d rather
smash my face than gaze too long.
Yes, we birds are fragile—apt to choke on worms
intended to feed our young.
Copper Isn't Gold
Do you remember the growing stain
in the laundry room ceiling?
You never liked the tub’s piping,
corroded copper too tedious
to repair in a room upstairs
out of your bounds.
Wedding vows oozed off our tongues
and turned to steam. So much
for a sand ceremony.
Plaster cracked above our heads.
You replaced the pipe
and ignored the dam.
The plumbing works,
but the hole is there.
About Deana Nantz
Deana Nantz holds an MA in American literature and an MFA from Eastern Kentucky University's Blue Grass Writer's Studio. Her chapbook, Fits of Wrath of Irony, is available through Finishing Line Press. The Voices Project and Southern Women's Review featured her poetry and her fiction has appeared in Fiction Southeast (finalist for the Editor's Prize) Night Train, Fiddleblack, Funny in 500, Fried Chicken and Coffee, and other literary journals.