March Penn: 2 poems

Photo by Giorgio Trovato on Unsplash

Starting Over

Life is a series of new beginnings--
Being 22 again but looking older

Having a bed on the floor, 
an air conditioning unit in the window

in the middle of winter, 
one spring-like day-- not really a good sign--

but take it-- the poster left behind
under the inherited dresser,

the color wheel, a reminder 
of the goal to keep creating art

your art matters. your art heals
even though there aren't enough book deals.

Some days I feel bitter with failure,
other days I try not to have too many goals.

The Wheel of Fortune in Tarot 
means the future is up to fate

& I can't bring about the future
with my chosen actions alone.

Frustration juts up like a board 
with a broken-neck of a nail,

the spot where I keep ripping my sock
until two little toes pop out

Gothic Zoom Date

I go to sleep thinking about how hot you are,
a shimmering witch webbed with poetic alchemy
lounging on an antique sofa, some wood knobs in swirls,

as if a frozen scream and your ancestors dancing
in the dust behind you, the train roaring, a mundane smirk,
your black-lipstick tracing me back to desire,

though desire is hard to come by online, an abstraction
of its original form. I want to hold you in person,
maybe next week, if we're all well enough then.

March Penn is a queer poet and founder of the Self-Educating Poets Network, a literary group providing free resources and meeting space to writers. Penn’s poetry is published in What Are Birds, The Offing, The Fem and other literary magazines. Penn has featured in Boston at the Cantab Poetry Lounge and Stone Soup. Website:


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