Mother/Casting Love Spells on Friday between 10 and 11pm/ANYWAY
by TAYLOR MCKINNON
in Fall 2022
Karim Brown, from On Being a Child, 2022
Mother
I sit sometimes
To write about my mom
A woman whose smile
They say
Could launch a thousand ships
A woman whose hair
Sparked movements
A woman whose voice alone
tamed vicious dogs
And teenaged boys
In spite of the mountain
Of inspiration she left
Of gifts
Of garments
Of stories
I always get caught up
In her last breath
Casting Love Spells on Friday between 10 and 11 pm
I went to Salem to find love
And I found it
In the women who call themselves witches
In the nearby beaches
In my scenic New England dream
Of tall trees, Belt buckle hats
Cobblestones and centuries
And mismatched houses,
I went home with fresh ideas
And a desire to go back
I found love
But home I found myself stuck
On the boy I left in New York
Wearing the face of a man
He haunts the life I see for myself
ANYWAY
He coats all his words
With sugary sweet
Not particularly loftily
Nor poetically
Anyway
A spritz of perfume
To mask the funk
A flowery tune
Anyway
It’s like there’s not now
Nor was there ever
Tears in my matrix
Doubts sewed to my mind
Nothing wrong here
Anyway
I did not say yes
I could not say no
He gave me a kiss
I could never get rid of him
Anyway
For years I was sore
For years I’ve been sour
Churning the pain
All for my yearly reminder
Anyway
Taylor Mckinnon is a writer based in Boston, Massachusetts. She has been writing poetry and short stories since she was a young child. She has often found poetry is one of the most important aspects of humanity, and as a Black woman who grew up in Boston, poetry often keeps her individual spirit alive and connected to many who came before her Currently, she is in law school pursuing an interest in environmental justice. As the daughter of a landscaper, she has a lifelong connection to nature and use that to fuel her passion for equal access to clean air and natural resources. These are her first published poems.