Today’s choice

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Amirah Al Wassif

 

 

 

A Thumb-Sized Sinbad under My Armpit

Beneath my armpit lives a Sinbad the size of a thumb.
His imagination feeds through an umbilical cord tied to my womb.
Now and then, people hear him speaking through a giant microphone—
Singing,
Cracking jokes,
Laughing like mad,
And impersonating a lonely banana suddenly abandoned by its peel.
The men of our town have no idea I carry a Sinbad inside me.
They say, “A woman—formed from a crooked rib.”
They say, “A woman—waiting for Prince Charming.”
But Sinbad stirs within me like a fetus,
Restless, chasing after adventure.
My aunt pinches my knee
For slipping into daydreams.
The good girls say yes.
But what about no?
What about what Sinbad tells me every night?
No one knows.
No one cares.

 

Amirah Al Wassif is an award-winning published poet. Her collections include For Those Who Don’t Know Chocolate (Poetic Justice Books & arts, 2019), How to Bury a Curious Girl (Bedazzled Ink Publishing Company, 2022), and her most recent work, The Rules of Blind Obedience (December 2024). She is also the author of the illustrated children’s book, The Cocoa Boy and Other Stories (2020)

Jena Woodhouse

Language reinvents itself,
coruscates in signs on walls;
falls silent, mute as clay and stone
on tablets that enshrine its form.

Jenny Hockey

That’s when she went to ground,
after she disobeyed, painted her plastic tea set
red, hidden away in the playhouse they built
down where bindweed draped

Nick Cooke

If when you go to the barber today
He asks if you’d like him to ‘tidy up your ears’,
Think of all the wildest sprawling vegetation
That will never be tidied, or trimmed, by clippers or shears,