Author Archives: Sarah F Moran

About Sarah F Moran

Sarah Frances Moran is a writer, editor, animal lover, videogamer, queer Latina. She thinks Chihuahuas should rule the world and prefers their company to people 90% of the time. Her work has most recently been published or is upcoming in FreezeRay Poetry, Drunk Monkeys, Rust+Moth, Maudlin House, Blackheart Magazine, East Jasmine Review and The Bitchin' Kitsch. She is Editor/Founder of Yellow Chair Review. These days you can find her kayaking the Brazos in Waco, Texas with her partner. You may reach her at www.sarahfrancesmoran.com

Dos Pájaros

dove__small_by_bocurd-d9cq2ci


for all the two-spirited birds of Pulse
 
The songbird sings
and pulls on the cords inside you.
 
We are it, doubled,
perched in the Evergreen.
 
Inside our song:
           
the fish swims with currents
it can barely breathe in
 
the wind blows with directions
that rival the river
 
the mountains move miniscule,
shifting the world in ways it isn’t meant to.
 
 
Two-spirits.  Two-ways to move.
Two-ways to pulse, throb, drop. 
Two-ways to break. 
Two-ways to transcend.
 
We are the flight and the wings
on jet streams
that carry change.
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Three Poems – Sarah F Moran

Flood (1951) Thomas Hart Benton

Flood (1951) Thomas Hart Benton


Caution: Go Slow

I work with the flinching dog,
unable to speak its history, given the yellow caution card
to decorate its cage
The cower and the cover and the rage that hides behind
the snarl of teeth and spit.
I’m full of snarl and teeth and spit.
The low growl, hide in the corner, eye cut, 
is a mask.
Somewhere inside the shiver is forgiveness.
Somewhere inside the eyes is love.
I flinch sometimes when you touch me.
I resist my snarl and teeth and spit.
I cannot find the forgiveness inside my shiver.
I cannot recognize the love behind my big brown eyes.
I want my own cage
and my own understanding:
I’m silent now like the dog;
            unable to articulate my history.
Full of snarl and teeth and spit
Not seeing the love pouring off the raised hand
but desiring.  

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