Marie Sklodowska-Curie translates poems about polonium

The radium held its own weight from the chart, too much weight for Poland, too much shearing of electrons for the bone marrow to keep up. It is not enough to create matter that was not named, the glitter of the gold is not rare enough to provide chance elixirs for ills not imagined, even…

Ruins

Mom called my south Albuquerque hotel room, said she wouldn’t allow me to visit. I wasn’t welcome. After traveling all the way from Bellingham, I was only a few miles away from her home. My girlfriend commented, That’s family. Now we’ll get to do more sightseeing. She reluctantly agreed to Santa Fe, but declined Taos,…

[I have conceded every thing]

*Originally appeared on JMWW. Devon Wootten is a faculty member at Whitman College. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Best American Experimental Writing, Fence, LIT, Aufgabe, and Colorado Review, among others. A former resident of Yaddo and Anderson Ranch, he holds an MFA from the University of Montana and a PhD from the University of Iowa. He lives with…

[N]o matter what [is] involved]

Devon Wootten is a faculty member at Whitman College. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Best American Experimental Writing, Fence, LIT, Aufgabe, and Colorado Review, among others. A former resident of Yaddo and Anderson Ranch, he holds an MFA from the University of Montana and a PhD from the University of Iowa. He lives with his wife among…

[Reader, let’s neither of us fuck this up]

*Originally published in Posit 15. Devon Wootten is a faculty member at Whitman College. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Best American Experimental Writing, Fence, LIT, Aufgabe, and Colorado Review, among others. A former resident of Yaddo and Anderson Ranch, he holds an MFA from the University of Montana and a PhD from the University of Iowa. He…

Stop Motion

*“Stop Motion” is in the forthcoming book Give a Girl Chaos (March 15, 2019 from Mastodon Books). Heidi Seaborn is Poetry Editor for The Adroit Journal, a New York University MFA candidate and the author of an award-winning debut book of poetry Give a Girl Chaos (see what she can do) forthcoming in early 2019 from Mastodon Books. Since…

The Misanthropist

Not that he minded coming in out of the rain, shaking water from his boots in the mud room, placing them side by side with the other pairs of slick rubbers, umbrellas left open, set like enormous flower petals upon an oriental rug dirty with its own versions of flowers. Nor did he mind the…

in some future time

What if, for us, there is no dark no cold dripping November spruce, no headstones, not even a name, the seasons saying relent with each drip. What if vetch and sweet pea tire of their work— honeysuckle exhausts its bloom? When the last visitor, a century ago tossed an apple it grew, but now gives…

Cascade Mall Shooting September 23, 2016

1. The day before my son was born my mom, and I took my daughter to the museum for kids. The one in the mall, with the semi-truck busting through the window, and the box of sand underground. 2. I walked the halls of that mall, empty and foreign as my body is now, void…

Watching You Sleep

Except for the rise and fall of a thin sheet/ draped across your chest, you could be dead. -Dorianne Laux, “Awake” 1. Late October morning, I watch you sleep, your arms spread, frog feet, like a crucified Jesus. I should get up, pump my breasts, sweep. I try to match my breathing to yours. I’d…

Distance

I stand beside the scarecrow and look where he looks, across the feathered gold and green, clump of trees, a single barn, a few dark lines where roads divide the fields. Clouds have crossed entire states to get here, their shadows in tow. As far as we can see is not that far, the scarecrow…

Bone

The scarecrow asks me about bones. He wants to know the feeling of them – the breakability, and the sturdy purpose of joints. He asks to touch my wrist, where the bones crowd into bumps so lightly covered, and the fused tectonics of my skull beneath its forested helmet. We speak of blood and marrow,…