Devil’s Lake

Spring 2012 Issue

Laurel Kallen: Tongue Twister

I’m probably just the wrong

size for certain

disasters. Like the tornado

sweeping up the woman as she seeks shelter in the

police station with her husband and

baby. My mommy went away in the

wind. My mommy went away in the wind. He

will grow up and write this

poem. I really didn’t understand much of any-

thing until now. It was like going away in a

wind to be alive the wind would carry me sweep even my

thoughts into a shape I could never predict or fathom I

surprised myself but couldn’t help

myself I could leap I could crumble I wanted to

improve but I let everyone have too much say. I sat in a

room once a week with a therapist. I liked telling him about my

father the shrink. It was like saying—look at your profession—look

at what you people do. Look at

the result.

a photo of the author, Laurel Kallen LAUREL KALLEN is a poet and fiction writer who teaches at the City University of New York. She is the recipient of the 2009 Stark Short Fiction Award and the Teacher/Writer Award. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Global City Review, Legal Studies Forum, Scapegoat Review, La Petite Zine, Atlanta Review, Big Bridge, and Portland Review. The Forms of Discomfort, a collection of poetry, will be published by Finishing Line Press in Summer 2012. Laurel has been a featured reader at Perch CafĂ©, Cornelia Street Cafe and The CUNY Graduate Center. Her daughters, Maia and Chloe, are gradually coming to terms with their mother’s presence on Facebook. More from this issue >