New poem at Moonchild Magazine.
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Author Archives: Liz Axelrod
GO ASK ALICE – Out Now!
My first book of poetry is now available for sale. It was a finalist (5th place!) in the 2015 Finishing Line Press New Women’s Voices Series. The book was released in June, 2016. Please consider ordering a copy now – it makes a great holiday gift! Also – my daughter did the cover art! Click Here to Purchase.
So Proud to have Made this List!
Thaw
Holly’s had enough
She sighs and arches closer
to the doorway
Her berries no longer speak
of gifts and glamour
She’s just a mess of red
Spiked leaves a
nd branches
weighted down with white.
Destroy these days of isolation
Skinny months of streaming nonsense
and fighting traffic snarls
on my Netflix que
Honeyed teas might sooth
but I want ice-picks
muscles pounding hard
Scrape my windshield
Burn my frozen doors
Wipe the bloody needles
buried under Holly’s feet.
Warm Day
The sweat of his efforts, a rain
Tugging the world to fruit. – Sylvia Plath
We glisten
as we dig
creating holes
wishing for magic
for germination
for growth
Sweat pools
at the center
of my chest
Drops of salt
embracing
lace and wire
My daughter says
porcelain is matte
I tell her
everything shines
when viewed
through water
My “Go Ask Alice” Interview at Luna Luna!
Feminist Round Up and 5 Must Reads
BY LIZ AXELROD
For months I’ve been following the blogs, the posts, the lists, the rants, the raves and the ravishings. I’ve been horrified, dumfounded, hysterical and generally nauseated by what I see as the breaking-down of women’s rights and liberties. Before I go into a major serious RANT, I need to parse it out. Not just for you but also for me. I’m not going to talk politics or Hillary or Gloria Steinem on Bill Maher – it’s all out there, click and see. I’m going to talk about what we need to read to make sure we don’t fall further down this slippery slope.
I’m going out on a limb here by (almost) admitting my age – I grew up after the “Bra Burners” and before “Girls Gone Wild.” This sandwich of time, was idyllic. I thought I could be anyone, have anything, and my tits would never matter in the choices I made (well, they would – but only to my advantage).
