Dyslexia by Camille Lebel


So much more than God
becoming a dog.
Synapses stretched tight,
lactic acid in muscles straining,
the mind cramps, clamps shut.
Aching explosions ignite
a thrown book, splintered pencil,
lying lines on the teacher’s face.
The word must be delivered,
pushed out into the world
in excruciating labor.
The contractions start again.


Camille Lebel, mother to 7, lives on a hobby farm outside Memphis, TN where she enjoys mucking out horse stalls and weeding the garden. She writes poetry about evangelical deconstruction, purity culture, special-needs parenting, adoption, and more while she waits in the school pick-up line. She’s recently published in Rogue Agent, Black Fox Literary Magazine, Sledgehammer Lit, Sparks of Calliope, and more. You can find her on Instagram @clebelwords