After Reading the Family Hate Mail

Let’s walk away from

rotting dungheaps,

their diameters

seeking verbs in our mouths,

the ice cream truck hollering

the same hollow

sounds as wood flowerbeds

hold out their reds like pimps

in the park of Good Fridays.

Forgive me the hatred

of family. Don’t hold me against

the shallow delight

of small mammals with new

balloons, or the dog running his

nose over the arched

back a squirrel’s doom,

those eyes frozen

open, my eyes

frozen in you—everything

is a word for what,

hurts, as an ocean

is a puddle if we kneel

close enough

to feel it.

Alina Stefanescu was born in Romania and lives in Birmingham, Alabama with her partner and several intense mammals. Her writing can be found in diverse journals, including Prairie Schooner, North American Review, FLOCK, Southern Humanities Review, Crab Creek Review, Virga, Whale Road Review, and others. She serves as Poetry Editor for Pidgeonholes, Poetry Editor for Random Sample Review, Poetry Reviewer for Up the Staircase Quarterly, and Co-Director of PEN America's Birmingham Chapter. She was nominated for 5 Pushcart Prizes by various journals in 2019. A finalist for the 2019 Kurt Brown AWP Prize, Alina won the 2019 River Heron Poetry Prize. She still can't believe (or deserve) any of this. More online at www.alinastefanescuwriter.com.