Statement of Record

Three poems



Three poems




I have a hostage code, a panic button, motion detectors, sensors

The dryer has run all day, I can’t find my checkbook

The new light bulbs (so I am told) will last forever


The Windex seems to brighten the bathroom mirror 

I decide to plant four bonsai plants and see them (possibly) grow from seed

Developers bulldozed the two adjacent decrepit houses 


Three feral cats now have no place to go

I lost my gray gloves on yesterday’s commute

And I loathe my body most times (as much as the self)


A body can be seized by emergency

I can creep up the wall finger by finger plus

I recently was told a cow has four stomachs


Even the ancient Egyptians must have felt

Dread, while watching a creeping shadow on the sundial



Never have I mentioned so many, feelings

Organized from low to high

As if internet shopping. I sort

I filter, I can (let’s say) select a drop-down bar

Select: Relevance – – – – what might surface equals:

every one


A full sun clamors down the day a dish from a cupboard, deciding to jump 

A leaf scurries across the dry summer driveway—gnats waft kindly into my face 


I walk to pick from my neighbor’s blueberry bushes (such old plants)

The small forest surrounds me with wisps of air and their touching branches


Time to breathe, a body in chokeholds, in masks, in this perfect sun

Our world is only my momentary outer world:

Where a tree in wind is a creaking door, and a runaway leaf, a mouse

About the author

Melissa Hotchkiss is a poet, editor, and photographer. Melissa’s poems and prose have appeared in publications such as The American Poetry Review, The New York Times, Free Inquiry, Women’s Studies
Quarterly, Interim, Nine Mile, trampest, Stronger Than Fear (an anthology) and others. Her first book of poems, Storm Damage, was published by Tupelo Press. She is a founding editor of Barrow Street.

Statement of Record

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