CAROL McMAHON

★ ★ ★ ★

POETRY

Dead Weight

My bare back 
cupped by a cold, metal pan.

First days of breath
counted in ounces.

None of us escapes
appraisal.

A stone of failure;
a grain of success;

regret, a black hole
that consumes all matter.

Our tethers weaken.
Chairs empty while graves fill.

Vows break. Leave mass
enough for two to carry.

Arms strain
but knees buckle.

Fuck Atlas.
When the time comes

I’ll be glad to put it down.
Cup my back in satin and pine. 

Twenty-one grams is not the weight
of a soul

but the measure
of letting go. 

Carol McMahon is a teacher whose work has been published in various journals (Mom Egg Review, Painted Bride Quarterly, Stone Canoe, Poet Lore) and has a chapbook, On Any Given Day, published by FootHills Press (2006). McMahon received an MFA in Poetry from the Rainier Writing Workshop and, when she is not with 11-year-olds, spends her time either running or rowing. 

DEAR READER

At The Wild Word we are proud to present some of the best online writing around, as well as being a platform for new and emerging writers and artists.

As a non-profit, the entire site is a labour of love.

If you have read the work in The Wild Word and like what we do, please put something in our tip jar to keep this amazing platform alive.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT!

2 Comments

  1. Meadow

    It gave me chills, thank you!

    Reply
    • carol

      Thank YOU!

      Reply

Leave a Reply to carol Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.