In last night’s dreams, faces around me
changed. Someone called out facial features:
“nose,” “lip,” “chin,” he yelled these things.
I cringed, continued to look for clothes
to put on; I was naked and very frightened.
The yelling man’s hands were bigger
than boxcars, not lifelike at all. He waved
them in the air and pointed toward
a billboard. I thought I might find
clothes there at the billboard, But no.
When I woke up, I began a novena
to St. Jude. (This was because all cases
seem like hopeless cases to me.) I believe in
only one kind of miracle—the kind where
everyone I know keeps living.
Martina Newberry’s latest book is Where it Goes (Deerbrook Editions). She is also the author of Learning by Rote (Deerbrook Editions), Running Like A Woman With Her Hair on Fire (Red Hen Press), and Lima Beans And City Chicken (a Memoir Of The Open Hearth) (E.P. Dutton). Her work has been widely anthologized and published in the U.S. and abroad. She lives in her beloved Los Angeles with her husband, Brian, a photographer/web designer, and their fur-baby, Charlie T. Cat.