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Original poems & found images
–by Mia Sara
Cherry
If youth is wasted on the young,
what’s my excuse for today
wasting more than I have left,
trying not to stare at the woman
in the pristine, vanilla ice cream
colored mustang, whose face,
for all the fancy spit and polish, Continue reading
Original poems & found images
–by Mia Sara
Value Engineering
Maybe I haven’t wasted the summer
comparing my spongy thighs to the taut
lean haunches of the homeless woman
crouched every morning in the doorway Continue reading
Original poems & found images
By Mia Sara
The Belly Knows
The belly knows it needs to be fed,
but the tongue plays favorites. Continue reading
Original poems and found images
by Mia Sara
Survivor’s Gilt
I should want less
and give more,
but needs have a way
of accumulating.
Look, don’t be fooled
by my sleight of hand.
Isn’t ‘need’ the magic word?
The misdirection
for the big reveal? Continue reading
To best understand Mia Sara’s interview it is necessary that you stand up, forget about Julie, and get yourself to the top of the Chrysler building. Check out her column Wrought & Found.
Interview by DeWitt Brinson
1) Where do you find the photos? Do you search for them or wait until they find you?
“Woman, stuck in a bag, on the Chrysler Building.” An example of my everyday image search. Also, I’m colorblind, so I tend to like images in black and white, but sometimes color is worth it.
2) What’s the most common sound in your current life?
The sound of my daughter talking to her “Nintendog” Sparky.
3) What was the first poem you fell in love with and how does that differ from the first person you loved?
“Down By The Salley Gardens” by W.B. Yeats. The first person I loved was of Irish extraction, melancholy, and musical. Not so different. Still some of my favorite attributes, I’m a sucker for a melancholy baby. Continue reading
Original poems and found images.
~by Mia Sara
Next To Nothing
The morning after the memorial,
up too early, I slipped out for a coffee
wishing I was the type
who could stay where I’m put,
in my bed of roses, with a husband
who isn’t dead. Continue reading
Original poems and found images.
~by Mia Sara
The Parade
My first shame made manifest
in well-tailored garments
hand sewn at the hems
with sacrificial stitches. Continue reading
Original poems and found images.
~by Mia Sara
The Black Isle
How many others, at this very minute, are sitting in a dark
kitchen with a cold cup of coffee? I can’t help but wonder.
It’s not my first cup. There was that double espresso I had
after dinner, before driving home in the dark, knuckles white,
night vision sketchy, counting the ways I’ve yet to fail my
son. It was too strong, but I gave up sleeping sixteen years
ago, and faulty vision, all that squinting in the dark, reminded
me of another drive, the one where it took me nine hours to get
from the town of Melrose, in the Scottish Borders, up north to
Inverness. A drive that should have taken four hours, tops, in
the spanking new, navy blue station wagon, with my baby boy
swaddled up tight in his car seat, howling, and me singing Continue reading
Original poems and found images.
~by Mia Sara
Expectation
Let me carry,
just once more,
the promise
of nothing. Love,
the impossible
orphan. False Labor
bearing false fruit.
Only trust is lost. Continue reading
Original poems & found images.
~by Mia Sara
Don’t Knock Worst ‘Till You Try It
Fret, regret, the worst that hasn’t happened yet:
the best for last, so
let’s just get this over with- Continue reading