post abortion interview by Carla Sarett

post abortion interview

no there wasn’t
or it got lost

no I wasn’t
but I forgot

what happens to women’s
on unimportant nights

no there wasn’t much
or it didn’t last

no there wasn’t
except I had

to ask a man for
& I counted it


Carla Sarett is a poet and fiction writer based in San Francisco. She Has Visions, her debut poetry collection, will be published in Fall 2022 (Main Street Rag), and her novel, A Closet Feminist (Unsolicited) appeared earlier this year.

Two poems by Carla Sarett

They Made Wars

We drank sweet Turkish coffee
and talked long into the night
of mothers who lost children in cities,
who locked them out of houses in thick rain,
who foresaw snow on a warm spring day,
how snow fell after their words.

By dawn, we forgot which stories
we had told and which we had forgotten
in the eagerness of our first revelations.

By starlight, we whispered our terrors:
Giant mothers outgrew houses.
They made wars without anyone noticing.

We never mentioned fathers.
Those pale and harried men.


no one says it

Deirdre’s sending
love w/ exclamation points
love! love! love!
John texts it (love)
no point wanting
a love letter she knows
that’s not the #love
they’re sending
& that song
love love love
all you need is
not the #love
she needs


Carla Sarett’s recent poem appear or are forthcoming in Blue Unicorn, The Virginia Normal, San Pedro River Review, The Remington Review, Sylvia, Words and Whispers and elsewhere. Her novella, The Looking Glass, will be published in October (Propertius); and A Closet Feminist, a full-length novel, will appear in 2022 (Unsolicited Press.) Carla lives in San Francisco.

Two poems by Carla Sarett

You know, life

You know the story.

A woman’s seeking,

you know,

And she meets,

you know,

And he’s just what she,

you know.

And everything seems fine until,


well, you know.

Her mother,

His mother,

And couldn’t he,

And couldn’t she,

And really, who could with…

And no money.

And children, oh, the children,

And maybe if he,

And maybe if she,

But no one expected,

well, you know.



how suddenly

how suddenly
padded shoulders vanished,
bodies unbranded were
never seen except
in old movies

hats of miraculous shapes,
black veils, gloves of lemon yellow
died along with her old face,
no longer hers but
a sadder woman’s

her to do-list
had nothing to do
with anything
anyone ever
wanted to do

Carla Sarett’s recent appears or is forthcoming in Hobart, Prole, Third Wednesday and elsewhere; and her essays have been nominated for Best American Essays and the Pushcart Prize.  Her novel, A Closet Feminist, will be published in 2022 (Unsolicited Press.). Carla has a Ph.D. from University of Pennsylvania, and lives in San Francisco.