LUISA MURADYAN TANNAHILL
The Red Forest, Рыжий лес
Wolf spider teach me to be invisible
that I may pray teeth first
mouth full of flies. The forest body
overgrown with wild tomatoes
nuclear garden, electric mausoleum.
My mother in her pregnancy did not know
that I had sprouted a tail and two
extra fingers or needles that thread
golden webs. This forest full
of unclaimed scarves and sick
stories that thousands of years later
will be called fables. When Ivan exploded
his nuclear body the heroine gave birth
to the many limbs of time. Religion I return,
wolf spider let me in.
207 The Paris-American
Luisa Muradyan Tannahill is originally from the Ukraine and is currently a PhD candidate at the University of Houston. She is also the Editor of Gulf Coast: A Journal of Literature and Fine Arts and a 2016 Donald Barthelme Poetry Prize recipient. Previous work has appeared in West Branch, The Los Angeles Review, Blackbird, Rattle, Ninth Letter, and PANK among others.