Poem by Alarie Tennille (USA) Published in The Ofi Press issue 41
| Waking in the Morgue Ostrow Lubelski, Poland
Voices. Echoes. Stench of antiseptics. Not my room at home. I push, pull, find myself
inside a soft sac. Dear God, no. Don’t let me be back in the womb. I don’t want to start again.
I’m 91 years used to Janina. Am I still female? Still Polish? I thrash, try to use my own weak
contractions to get this over. I hear a zip, squint into the light, tell the man peering in
I want a cup of tea. |
Alarie Tennille (alariepoet.com) was born and raised in Portsmouth, Virginia, and graduated from the University of Virginia in the first class admitting women. She serves on the Emeritus Board of The Writers Place in Kansas City, Missouri. Alarie has published two poetry collections, Running Counterclockwise and Spiraling into Control, and her poems have appeared in numerous journals including Margie, Poetry East, Wild Goose Poetry Review, I-70 Review, and Southern Women’s Review.
Image: "Morgue" by Jorge Gonzalez.