“We’re the Women of ’80s B-Movies,” “Spacing Out” & “First Winter Dream”
by Allison Hummel
We’re the Women of ’80s B-Movies
A “horror” a “thriller” and the events therein, which
transpire among cold, dun-colored fields:
There’s quite a bit of
but mercifully, we don’t notice.
The transgression, unapprehended,
never happened I guess; the gray hand and
fascia of glass.
And thank god, because we’re exceptionally tired of
these ruptures of privacy & freedom.
We’re the women of '80s b-movies
and also of '60s, '70s and '90s,
of before, and after as well.
We make lunch and change our clothes
and pee. We’re planetoids, attempting the usual orbit,
seeking out joy’s warm yellow thumbprint,
even after attacks in
the hayloft and the pressing down of glottal dreams.
We are castigated by
cults, hovered over by flies-
we’re discovered by love which
collapses into compost-
our fates arrive fast and at once very slowly,
we’re alloted either a crawling drag & smear
or a bounding run, feet kicking up high,
we stream away
Seems like not even the most
diaphanous new age
no matter how it swells
can hook us to one another again.
We’ve all gone so far afield,
askance with self-
interest, distracted by
astronomy, the pitcher
is the future and
the swing batter swing
is our gnawing, incessant
inability to know.
Many large stars could graze
us. Some could even hit the
target of my open eye;
I’ll tear up accordingly
unmoved but physical
recalling with no
that backyard, that season, our
well-intended, gyred connection,
honest and pumice
like the moon
First Winter Dream
Dreamt of a friend with
the softest face, all
rounded inlet, blue
islets, seal pup, sugar castle.
Shame presses me through
its grate. I come out the other side
cold butter for the promise
of new constructions.
How can I trust myself at
25 27 28 30 - was I bright
was I cunning
was I a cannibal
can I atone? I regret
filling my vague globe with trash
as I regret dragging the
weft of cirrus clouds
my gift from you
across the ground.
Dreamt of you, your
You were the skim
vernal pool your Dad
gazed into. You were
the color of butter.
You left me waiting
but not for long.
Allison Hummel is based in northeast LA. Her poetry has recently appeared in Dream Pop, Q/A and Flag + Void. Work is forthcoming from new_sinews. Links are at ashummel.com.
Corinne Dodenhoff is a Philly-based artist, illustrator, graphic designer, Squarespace web designer, educator, musician, and plant parent. She’s passionate about helping small businesses, bands, brands and co-ops bring their mission and vision to life. She’s also passionate about beautiful aesthetics, design trends, social justice, and making design accessible to all. You can find her work online at www.designswithhe.art and also on Instagram at @corinnedodenhoffcreative.