Maggie Woodward lives in Los Angeles, where she’s pursuing a PhD in Cinema & Media Studies at the University of Southern California. She’s the author of the chapbooks Found Footage (Porkbelly Press, 2018) & XS (Garden Door Press, 2020). She holds an MFA in poetry from the University of Mississippi. Her work has appeared in The Atlas Review, Devil’s Lake, New South Review, TYPO, & elsewhere. Previously, she served as Senior Editor of the Yalobusha Review & curated the Trobar Ric Reading Series in Oxford, MS.
Maggie Woodward
Origin Story
i sealed the past like an incision, sutured
all my porous parts & aimed my compass
far away from you. you are flightless, earth-
bound, tethered to your sorrow like an i.v.
drip, your murky velvet half-heart oozing
out around you. i am tendrilous, lunar,
toothsome in this constellated body.
something bright & celestial is beckoning.
something oracular lives under my bed.
the moon birthed me, she spat me into being
like tobacco into a brass jug. now she lives
inside my ribcage, ringing every bone like a bell.
o little dog, o lesser bear, orion: i pulled
myself from my throat by a string.
Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published monthly by Glass Poetry Press.
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