Megan J. Arlett


Cordial Invitation

Please join us for the pleasure of your company at the ripe fruit should be unwaxed and sliced, citric acid, caster sugar, 30 elderflower heads. We invite you to the ripe fruit should be unwaxed and sliced. Pour the boiling water over the sugar. We invite you to stir occasionally. Please RSVP and pour the boiling water over the sugar. Dinner following cocktails and hors d'oeuvres. Stir occasionally. Please RSVP. We request you remove any dirt or little creatures from the heads. Dinner following before we will expect your arrival at 6 o’clock. We request you remove any dirt or little creatures from June 21st. Strain, chill, and serve your arrival at 6 o’clock. Your company, the pleasure. Kindly respond by June 21st. Strain, chill, serve. Your company. Pleasure. Kindly respond by the pleasure of your company at strain citric acid, caster sugar, 30 elderflower heads.

Smoke Goddess / Woman with Orange Flares

Judy Chicago, 1972

The difference between naked and nude

lies mostly in shame. In that damn Manet

painting–the naked woman dares us
to blush, stares down a scandal. Look,
we are being summoned. Her hips eclipse

this self-made apocalypse

a drop of apple juice dwells on her lips.

Solstice

The sun began her ascent pinkly, then with zest. The druids pressed their skin against the monoliths at Stonehenge. Hand to hand, the druids pressed their skin together in commune. Hand to hand. Fertile darkness. Gentle breath. Together in commune they chanted, they turned like fertile darkness. Gentle breath cast out into the dawn air they chanted, they turned like a star across the sky cast out. Into the dawn air, “North South East West.” A star across the sky–rekindled spark. North South East West. A red-robed druid and her rekindled spark after the longest night, the sixteen-hour veil. A red-robed druid and her raised gaze. After the longest night, the sixteen-hour veil, the sun began her ascent pinkly then with zest, raised her gaze against the monoliths at Stonehenge.


Megan J. Arlett was born in the UK, grew up in Spain, and now lives in Texas where she is pursuing her Ph.D. She is an editor at the Plath Poetry Project. The recipient of two Academy of American Poets Prizes, her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Best New Poets 2019, Best New British and Irish Poets, The Kenyon Review, Ninth Letter, Passages North, Prairie Schooner, Third Coast, and elsewhere.