Jessica Wiseman Lawrence lives in rural central Virginia. She has had work published in Silver Birch Press, and has poetry currently upcoming in Hermeneutic Chaos Literary Journal and The Activity Report. Her work focuses on relationships, motherhood, poverty, and nature through examinations of a central image or thought. She also has an interest in earth science and biology.
Lie
Today, standing in the kitchen,
I told a lie.
It dripped off my tongue and fell, dried,
and became a perfect bead of green wax,
stuck to the floor.
Like a terrified child,
I stood over it,
so you wouldn't see what I had done.
Yes, Master
Please enter your sixteen digit credit card number
Please enter the last four digits of your social security number,
followed by the pound key.
Press one to hear your balance.
Please enter the last four digits of your social security number.
Press two to hear more options.
Press one to hear your balance.
-the muffled whump, whump, whump of a sick heartbeat floods the world-
Press two to hear more options,
followed by the pound key.
-the muffled whump, whump, whump of a sick heartbeat floods the world-
Please enter your sixteen-digit credit card number.
Plated
Akami is displayed before us in the dim restaurant- minimalist art.
I half-believe every word you choose. I admire my reflection in your armor.
I see the hollow of my throat turning green. The true metal of my locket is
spreading as the gold fades.
On another night, a trout regards me with one eye. A cursive ribbon of sauce-
bright against the dish.
~Jessica Wiseman Lawrence