Reabsorption Elegy

Sculpture by Kenneth Paul Lesko

Sculpture by Kenneth Paul Lesko


Daughter, I won’t make milk for you anymore.
      The body retreats. It reclaims

Published in Glint Literary Journal.

“Miracle of the River Pig” up at *Goblin Fruit*

My poem “Miracle of the River Pig”new river is live today at Goblin Fruit, and you can listen to me read it there as well!

It’s a grotesque and somewhat experimental poem for me recounting my experience in the Southern California desert near the New River. I began drafting the poem in Brenda Hammack‘s fairytale workshop with The Rooster Moans Poetry Cooperative, while I was also reading Frank Bidart’s “The War of Vaslav Nijinsky.”

I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading! new river 2

" — Selves like iridescent, 
shining, speckled
shit in the Río Nuevo
frothy foaming stinking desert river
desert in the new world — 
how old were you? fifteen & blessed 
as Santa María,
I’m that lucky pig in the river — 
cut my trotters,
strike my blue-butt,
handle me,
sell me at auction,
devour me."

--Jenn Givhan

Read the full poem here.


Mama Hulas with the Eggslice Player One Last Time

My poem published at Tupelo Quarterly.

photo credit raw fashion magazine

photo credit raw fashion magazine

“the skate-floor-turned-dance-


just beginning to understand

I was the reason
for her dizziness and egglonging”

–Jenn Givhan


Jennifer Givhan


In a field where a hot air balloon waits tethered,
children balancing umbrellas and wearing party hats

plant birthday bouquets; where they grow
the swollen bulbs push open the soil

smelling of clay and fingerpaint. Even the sky
celebrates in reverse, hanging like pigtails from a jungle gym.

Not many daffodils or crickets are lucky enough to become fossils,
but here every joule of heat remains inside the balloon.

One might be tempted to drift away now
rather than later.


Dark Lady Poetry

My poems “You Don’t Want More Kids, You Claim,” and “The Eve of Destruction” have been published in Dark Lady Poetry online. I wrote the Eve poem as part of a longer poem many years ago in an undergrad creative writing class and have continued shaping it and polishing it all this time. Eventually, I decided to take out the other sections and let Eve’s voice come through all by herself, without the chatter of other (male) voices, like God’s, for example. Ha.  Finally, five or six years later, this poem was accepted for publication. Moral of the story? Revision works, and sometimes it takes years to get a poem right. Lesson learned. Of course, the other poem published here, I wrote one morning after a weird dream and have done little to reshape it since. You just never know.