Jennifer Lothrigel


This morning I feel like
a red gum ball,
fallen into a river shaped sidewalk crack,
mourning mishaps
and pleasure.

I want to dissolve my outsides colorfully in the palm
of a stranger’s hand.

I want to feel language
against the soft pliable form of my body,
expanding beyond old forms,
naked in someone’s mouth.

Little Clear Wing

I placed one ranunculu bulb at a time.
I had no idea how they would ever rise through
the toughened Summer ground.

We have both been dormant so long,
I didn’t even know how much
faith we’d lost.
Next to me,
I spotted
a tiny insect wing,
newly shed,
glistening in the sun.

It was perfect,
the only truth
the day had offered.


Jennifer Lothrigel is a poet and artist residing in the San Francisco Bay area.  She has just published her first chapbook through Liquid Light Press, titled ‘Pneuma’.  Her work has also been published in Deracine, Rag Queen Periodical, Poetry Quarterly, The Haight Ashbury Journal, NILVX and elsewhere. Find her on instagram @PartingMists

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