My mother sings of January

By J. David

Issue 39 • Spring 2019 • Poetry

I too know the folding and un-

folding of the heart.

I too have empty seats

at the tables

of my beloved.

Won’t you sit beside me

at the windowsill

and trace Saturn’s dance?

I too imagine myself

a kinder planet than most.

If you were to give me

your heart

I’d place it neatly on my tongue

then save it in my cheek.

The past is never just the past.

Sitting in the dumpster

on the corner

of Skidd and Memphis

is the coffee pot

from our kitchen.

Where we come from

there is a litmus test for kindness:

dip your hand in milk

if it comes out green

you are growing gardens

amongst yourself.

One weekend

it rained milk

enough to drown

our nostalgia for Kharkiv.

We are so far from home

God is squinting

just to see us.

J. David

J. David is from Cleveland, Ohio and serves as poetry editor for Flypaper Magazine.

Mohammad Ali Mirzaei

Mohammad Ali Mirzaei was born in Iran, Tehran (August 8th 1982). His BA is in field of News Photography from University of Culture & Art Isfahan. His works in various festivals in Iran include: First place in “National Festival of Iranian people,” Chosen of the 4th Festival “Women and urban life,” Winner of Best Collection in “Festival Of Film & Photo Young Cinema,” Chosen in Fereshteh Prize (Tehran 2015). His photos have also been published in Midway Journal, TAYO, Columbia Journal, Hawai’i Review, Oxford, The Missing Slate, Silk Road Review & The Adroit Journal. He is a member of the artistic team Paradise Ocean Literary & Photography Team, with management by Seyed Morteza Hamidzadeh.