INVISIBLE
—Jeanine Stevens, Sacramento
The day I became
invisible, I walked
into a small photo
shop, rang a bell
for service, no one
came. I stopped
to visit a colleague
on campus, students
swarmed around him,
I slipped out unnoticed.
Through glass, I saw
a friend engrossed
in a meeting. I left
with a cup of water
from the cooler,
then wandered
to a park, watched
ducks, an older
woman also sat,
bent, a spot of blood,
the size of a nickel,
seeped from her arm.
"I'm not hurt, just
old, my skin breaks
easily." I felt I tiptoed
at the edge of things,
anonymous, it was
somehow peaceful.
____________________
The publication schedule has fallen behind a bit, though, so D.K. and Joyce are planning to put out another issue in July, even though their last issue just came out. Send 3-5 poems by snail to Joyce Odam, 2432 48th Av., Sacramento, CA 95822 by JUNE 30. No simul-subs or pre-pubs; cover and bio yes. Check 'em out at www.poetrydepthquarterly.com.
Joyce also edits Brevities, but that's a story for another day...
Enjoy the rain! I still have glorious sweet peas—in mid-June!
Medusa (who still runs back and forth to the p.o, mailing Snakes)
