My poem THE CHANGE, a finalist for the The Jane Lumley Prize, was published in
H E R M E N E U T I C C H A O S J O U R N A L:
The Change
When I was still small I began growing antlers
as a stag grows antlers as a girl grows
breasts My chest remained flat & the blood
didn’t come but the velvet skin
sprang spongy behind my temples No one at school
laughed at the antlers like they did when I’d grown
hair under my arms & razor-scraped my shins
to the blood-bright thrill of the locked bathroom door
Mom said she would’ve given me warm
water & lotion if I’d let her in The girls asked could I
pierce my antlers like ears or a nose & if they
hurt The boys asked were they strong enough
to break glass crush tin cans & how long
would they grow The doctor
said to stick out my tongue & drink
peach tea from a soda fountain in the nurse’s
lounge so I could pee into a cup & prove
myself Sometimes a female deer grows
a stub He asked if there was any chance I could be
growing something else I told mom
there was a boy but it didn’t mean anything
I couldn’t even use a tampon yet
Soon small red birds gathered & settled
as the velvet turned to bone matured into branches
They were too heavy & I knew I had a choice
Mom scoured every myth required
every curandera crack eggs
over my belly rub sagebrush across
my forehead chant & pray One even told me
to sing I could learn to love my antlers or I could
wait see if they fell off on their own see how long
would they stay gone
(appeared in my book Girl with Death Mask, Indiana Review Press/Blue Light Books, 2018)