Literary Mama writing about the many faces of motherhood
My Pretty

No comments

My dumb heart thinks it knows something,
but really its tick is all flounder and worry, wallow and sorry.
A wall of it.
A waterfall of it.
Caterwaul and carnival.
Container ship and Holland Tunnel.
It’s a vessel with a bad idea.
Fat and slinking.
A car bomb.
A booty text.
Two many DJ requests.

Once it wanted a baby.
Another time it snuck out for a steak.
I try my best to slow it down,
talk it down,
beat it back,
eat it out.

But eventually, I give up.
I take her out, my specimen, my lover.
And when we get to the bar, I put her in the pickle jar on the counter.
I play a country song about a bad marriage and an old farmhouse
          on the jukebox.
I shrug when the other customers point at her.
No idea, I mouth and then pucker my lips in mock sympathy.
And then I go into the bathroom to dance alone.


Carley Moore’s poetry, essays, and articles have appeared in The American Poetry Review, Aufgabe, Birdsong Magazine,  Coconut, Drunken Boat, and The Journal of Popular Culture. Her debut young adult novel, The Stalker Chronicles, was published by Farrar, Straus, and Giroux in 2012. She’s a full-time faculty member in The Liberal Studies Program at New York University and an Associate for Bard College’s Institute for Writing and Thinking. She lives with her daughter in New York City. You can find her blogging and read more of her work at her website: www.carleymoorewrites.com


More from



Comments are now closed for this piece.