detaches— though I am already a body on fire. Already I am christened having stood at the beach with Him combing the shoreline for surf, spray,
a spritzer of virtue among a subterfuge of sea glass—granules of stillness unmoored by the sudden eruption of an ocean installing her famed
frigid depths up and up and up into a compilation, a cackle of stardust laughing, black and blue and silver. I play solitary witness to a sky
that speaks the same succinct mother tongue as the eye of Horus— his oath to Ra, the gravity of natural law—rebuke of a deity enraged
as if this is what the mind of man set to stirring awake in dreams only to wrestle a vicious beautiful thing, then pray for scales or wings, mythos or miracle
to save him.
Alison J. Valley is a poet, born and raised in Massachusetts, who has been a happy resident of Vermont for over 20 years. Alison began writing poetry at age 8 in a blue butterfly journal with a fancy silver pen with the hope of becoming fancy. Though her plan failed, Alison has continued to write raw and often visceral accounts of a life challenged by poverty, generational trauma, and addiction. She hopes to inspire others to feel safe enough to share their authentic, simple, beautiful selves.
12 poets 