once a car called me a bitch through (accursed)
horn encrusted mouth
human rights (nightmares)
occurring on my guard
feel their invisible handguns scrape
(metaphor) inside my shoulder
an (with my son) impression, an (disquiet) inquiry
(some laugh at the discomfort in my mouth)
a car does not want to (slaughter) incarcerate
to the breathing, it is unconscionable
(corresponding) gas or brake
Brenda Serpick is the author of three chapbooks: the other conjunction in it (Furniture Press 2018), No Sequence But Luck (3 Sad Tigers Press) and The Female Skeleton Makes Her Debut (Hophophop Press). She was a participating poet for Tupelo Press’ 30/30 Project (July 2016), and her poems are forthcoming or have appeared in Tule Review, The Potomac, Free State Review, eccolinguistics, Printer’s Devil Review, Spiral Orb, LIT, Lungfull! Magazine, and Boog City – among other fine journals.
She currently teaches 12th grade English and creative writing for Baltimore City Public Schools. See some of her students’ work here.