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Posts Tagged ‘Spring 2008’

“Know Your Signifier” by Terita Heath-Wlaz

Sunday, October 19th, 2008

Spring 2008, Volume 32, Number 1

Even after the vaccine
I have come down with something very modern,
an occupational hazard from handling receipts day after day.
That lentissimo poison.

The cormorant necks are twigs suspended in saline solution.
They have credit cards, too, but no pockets.
And signs trailing behind them:
Plastics Make it Possible.

I still want a limestone cave luminous with bricks,
oceanic Gorgonzola, marbling diligently after the syringe.
A falling droplet would bellow like an opera hall.
A test tube of shredded money would roll across the floor unironically.
They have gift shops for guests with uncountable cousins.

I scrutinize the beach for weathered bank notes.
Their edges have become gentle.
I pour them into a lamp on an end table next to jealous magazines.

Next, something trademarked happens.
I must confess to a pocket full of magnets,
and stumble all the way to the rotunda.
The tellers have no cash.
The tellers have only hardback books tunneled out, hiding keys.


Terita Heath-Wlaz graduated from Brown in 2005 and moved to San Diego where she now lives and works. Her writing has recently appeared or is forthcoming in Court Green, Coconut, Bird Dog, Juked, and 3AM Magazine.

“Old Town” by by Terita Heath-Wlaz

Wednesday, September 24th, 2008

Spring 2008, Volume 32, Number 1

We are bad scientists
Stooping along the path, prodding pieces of nature.
We conclude the wasp emerges ass-first.
Ping pong balls hitch to the back of a squirrel.

The sprinklers chuckle, working at perfecting rainbows.
There used to be a small malleable weed as fragile as a pear.
Honey stick, lizard, lizard. Delighted leaves stirring.
Then somebody stepped in loudly:
It was history
Dressed in heavy black boots and seventies fashion.

Then soft sage leaves furled out in slow motion.
The tree became reclusive and tall.
Its undergrowth bowed out like a respectful guest.

The pliant branches drooped into a seductive hairdo.
It was kind of a side project.
A soft glow issued all around it, an invitation
For us to take our pants off under its bows.


Terita Heath-Wlaz graduated from Brown in 2005 and moved to San Diego where she now lives and works. Her writing has recently appeared or is forthcoming in Court Green, Coconut, Bird Dog, Juked, and 3AM Magazine.

“Goodbye Persia” by Terita Heath-Wlaz

Friday, September 5th, 2008

Spring 2008, Volume 32, Number 1

In the post office dungeon, bronze catacombs have paisley bones.
The tunnel’s easy maze of one choice luminosity under orange lamps.
Like a blind salamander, the intensity of happiness.

A word about red wagons and men with mustaches´┐Ż
They too arrive here, and later leave.
They wait in line like bread crumbs.
Their boxes attracting colored stickers like fruit flies
though mine is a fig.

The letters used to get seasick or bruised on the back of a horse.
Squalls bumped the atoms and sometimes the scent of rose water up and left.
The eventual hands were not comfortable. That was a kind of insult.
It felt like surgery, or its aftermath, with the gauze.

Forget the rose water.
Set up an outgoing auto reply information relay race
delay of more than four hours
and wait til Christmas to pay homage to the animal skins and vegetable parts.
A hand stitched envelope that used to be a luna moth,
An astounding moth you crumpled like a handful of leaves.


Terita Heath-Wlaz graduated from Brown in 2005 and moved to San Diego where she now lives and works. Her writing has recently appeared or is forthcoming in Court Green, Coconut, Bird Dog, Juked, and 3AM Magazine.