from the Editors:
“Not that many poems are sexy, but this one is unmistakably so, and the biggest reason why is because its author doesn’t shy away from the carnal. The word drink starts us on a path where the the things of the world are often processed in relation to the human body. The simple act of drinking connects to the “the dark throat of winter starting to yawn across the sky,” and later, when she imagines drinking hot tea, there are “ordinary trees being weird in my throat.” Following this line come three sentences beginning “My body…” This is a poem of skin cells and ribs, teeth and faces and throats.”