You know he forgets names, where he left the keys. Some days floods cover land he says would never drown again. He hears my prayers then asks me to repeat, calling it a refrain. I abstain from meat and wine for forty days hoping to reset my soul. I try not to use my lover's name in vain. And yet I curse the man who forgets my birthday, forgets to pick up after the dog. Senescence is such a sonic word I hate to discover its meaning. I hate every diagnosis that dares doubt to double over, bruising bare knees.
Beth Oast Williams’s poetry has been accepted for publication in Leon Literary Review, SWWIM Everyday, Wisconsin Review, Glass Mountain, GASHER, Fjords Review, and Rattle’s Poets Respond, among others. Her poems have been nominated twice for the Pushcart Prize. Her first chapbook, Riding Horses in the Harbor, was published in 2020.
Edward Michael Supranowicz is the grandson of Irish and Russian/Ukrainian immigrants. He grew up on a small farm in Appalachia. He has a grad background in painting and printmaking. Some of his artwork has recently or will soon appear in Fish Food, Streetlight, Another Chicago Magazine, The Door Is A Jar, The Phoenix, and The Harvard Advocate. Edward is also a published poet.