Three Poems by Betsy Mars

Unfiltered

My mother in a black and white bikini
still smolders in the photo frame.
Her red lips encircle a cigarette,
conjure a smoke screen, nostrils flare.
Her fingertips flick phantom ash;
the shutter clicks as she inhales her despair.
Between us, cinders, regret, so much turbid air.

*

Nocturnal Bottleneck

Even Newton can be wrong, it turns out, turning blue
inside out for his own satisfaction. If I were indigo
what color would I be to your cyan eye, the only one
whose gaze I hunger for? Maybe your third eye
would see me true. Or if we were less evolved,
and still had eyes to see—a Zebra Finch
perhaps— you might recognize me, hanging on,
heavy, but not yet bruised—not an apple—
or pomegranate, full of seeds—but ready,
glowing neon, edible; you might see the fruit
inside, peel me, swallow me whole.

*

Frankenword

When she couldn’t find the word
for where it hurt, my daughter
didn’t hesitate:
hand-ankle, she said,
indicating her wrist. It was
all I could do to resist
weighing her down
with the language
of anatomy, her body
already growing beyond
my protection.

*

Betsy Mars is a prize-winning poet, photographer, and an editor at Gyroscope Review. Her writing has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and the Best of the Net. Betsy’s poems are widely available online and in print, most recently in ONE ART, Calul, Book of Matches, and the anthology Signed, Sealed, Delivered The Motown Poetry Review (Madville Press). Her photos have appeared in various journals, including Spank the Carp and Rattle. Betsy has had two chapbooks published, Alinea, and In the Muddle of the Night, co-authored with Alan Walowitz. Additionally, through her publishing venture (Kingly Street Press) she released two anthologies, Unsheathed: 24 Contemporary Poets Take Up the Knife and Floored. A full-length book, Rue Obscure, is forthcoming from Sheila-Na-Gig Editions.