Her Vancouver is now welcoming poetry and essay submissions! As a publication in its baby stages Her Vancouver has the privilege of forging ahead on whichever path we choose. Recognizing that it can be difficult for writers to navigate the world of publishing Her Vancouver strives to be a platform that allows writers to showcase their unique work.
We are looking for essays on current events and personal experience, specifically related to women’s issues. We are looking for poetry that gives us all the feels…..or provides thought-provoking commentary on life. To send your poetry and essay submissions to Her Vancouver, email us at firstname.lastname@example.org.
To kick it off, Her Vancouver has the privilege of publishing a poem by our Language Arts contributor Carlie Condon.
Your lighted tablet ‘lluminates a war,
a wound for me. Insinuated space
between the trappings of your pretty whore
and this – a binding cage of fickle grace.
You tell me over eggs to cut my hair,
that you are sickened by the garden’s dirt
beneath my nails as though I’m not aware
that I am no longer there upon your shirt;
a wafted thought, a memory. Reduced
to tears in fabricated making lines
of widow’s cloak and left to mourn; seduced
by silent coos, “pick me, choose me,” I pine.
And lurching on beneath some architect
deserted long ago, betraying death,
betraying signs of smothering neglect,
we touch. We touch and circumvent caress.
Speak. Now. You shall forever hold your tongue
in my hands, wet and sponged and sharp.
You lick my lips and chap them, ever more
dried, as in the sun with words never
unheard pleadings half meant and fully heard;
No, I don’t hear you. Patterned pauses sink
into the cavities we keep filled with silences.
Come- take a walk down Spanish trail. I think
in shrouded dark I’m close enough to touch;
breathe back in that which once you loved so .