Karen Alayna Thimell
In women, in the hollow of the body below the ribcage, lies
the womb. . . . like an independent animal within the body for it
moves around of its own accord and is quite erratic.
Aretaeus of Cappadocia
Wrapped in white towel, feet barely
reach cold bed bars, the railed perimeter
of shock-fled hairs maniacal by the pillow,
dragged electric, jaw hung low
and wondering what to cook or where
the kitchen went and how the door
stays shut, blank, or who made the room
so bright and pressured head to board
and buckled, strapped, sunk girl closing in
a wandering womb and gas-lit static spools
of red hair, pillowing magnetic, bare toes tip
to paint-chipped metal, curling over
the first cold surface, shock-skinned body,
convulsing, over the top bar, the bottom, stunned
volatile, but placed raw into space.
Karen Alayna Thimell’s work has appeared or is forthcoming in THIS LAND Press, Rattapallax, Connotation Press, and elsewhere. She is a graduate of the University of Pittsburgh’s MFA program where she served as Poetry Editor for Hot Metal Bridge. She currently lives and writes in Seattle.