SWWIM sustains and celebrates women poets by connecting creatives across generations and by curating a living archive of contemporary poetry, while solidifying Miami as a nexus for the literary arts.
I’m in the bathroom hurling my guts out. From inside me comes a needle, a heart, a dozen paint chips There is no solution to the repetition of morning
My roommate listens to the mice in the walls entering their own golden age of discovery Aren’t trees, storms, earth, stone just common things?
Another street, another continent maybe, but the same sun? There is toothpaste in my hair, smothering the mites I have fostered there across 800 generations
My roommate helps me hold my head up, puts my heart back brushes color and sharpness off my knees The year is 2025, and I am in my 2025th week of life
All around the earth life simmers into vapor Demodex mites live 2-3 weeks. Domestic mice 2-3 years The bathroom is old and tired, but still it has a window
And beyond that window, a winter, a weakening sun Though studded with light, the sea is desolate So desolate, it’s hard to imagine
M.P. Carver is a poet and artist from Salem, MA. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Paterson Literary Review, Rattle, and Mantis, among others. Her second chapbook, Hard Up, is available now from Lily Poetry Review Books. She directs the Massachusetts Poetry Festival and co-founded and edits Molecule: A Tiny Lit Mag.
