April Salzano
asalzano@hotmail.com

Bio:  Recently nominated for two Pushcart prizes, April Salzano teaches college writing in Pennsylvania where she lives with her husband and two sons. She is currently working on a memoir on raising a child with autism and several collections of poetry. Her work has appeared in journals such as Convergence, Ascent Aspirations, The Camel Saloon, Centrifugal Eye, Deadsnakes, Visceral Uterus, Salome, Poetry Quarterly, Writing Tomorrow and Rattle. The author also serves as co-editor at Kind of a Hurricane Press (www.kindofahurricanepress.com).

Text Slap

I am sure there is an emoticon or emoji

to fit what is needed when I annoy

the hell out of you with my incessant questions,

answers to which you have already provided,

but I forgot not because I wasn’t listening,

but because I was—to everything

in addition to what you said,

laundry crying

kids on infinite spin cycle

students barking

dog whining

all forces conspiring

against my attention span, capability

of my memory.

We need a our own combination of keystrokes,

delivered via cell

for the next time it happens.

A symbolic hand to face, a parenthetical

punishment of sorts to shock me

back into the realm of the writer.

Retrospective Disapproval

is as pointless as retroactive praise. Lessons

have been learned with or without reinforcement.

The statute of limitations expired long ago. History’s

characters cannot change their clothes, the color

of their eyes, or be recast, except as memory fails.

Mine is sharp, all unfortunate edges, a mirror

I hold that reflects no perception but my own,

not fairest, but historically accurate. For the past,

I may be sorry, but I will never apologize.

The Church of Sugar

I worship bread dough rising,

kneel before icing slathered

on a binge, lick cupcake

with peanut butter center,

tongue the body of my tiny god.

Sincerely,
April Salzano
asalzano@hotmail.com





Text Slap


I am sure there is an
emoticon or emoji


to fit what is needed
when I annoy


the hell out of you
with my incessant questions,


answers to which you
have already provided,


but I forgot not
because I wasn't listening,

but because I was--to