the day is trouble enough
its anxious scene,
alone, flour clouding about
well-wetted gutters to chin

fingers knead bread on marble
& maybe my child's last;
itself only an application,
a discombobulated will.

accept to own not tomorrow,
fleece in quiver, waiting
itself a heartwood,
itself a faulty wetsuit,

a candelabra with one
and a quarter candles.
the will itself

a poorly barn, & inside
as shepherdess, in
child's pose fold
over the kitchen floor 


Jill McKenna writes poems, studies astrology, and gets lost and has anxiety attacks while exploring natural areas in Portland, Oregon. Her poems have appeared in Vinyl Poetry & Prose, Muse/A Journal, thethepoetry, and others. She edited Winged: New Writing on Bees and is native to Chicagoland.

Cover image by Tyler Brewington: closeup of mineral deposit in Lava Hot Springs, Idaho.

Darla Mottram