Wanda (no. 110 of Women’s names sensual series)
I never depended on the
sexual kindness & comfort
from complete strangers.
I was raised on Dateline
& after hearing all about my girlfriends’ crazy shit,
the pepper spray was in my purse half-cocked,
ready to strike any madman
like a cobra.
But I have to stop
sleeping with you—
this will be the last time
we make any form of love
together—I was destroyed
by our last congress.
Since you left me,
I’ve been an empty shell,
& I know I have to move on,
& I will find someone else
I will let it slip in,
& when I feel comfortable
with myself, alone,
love might happen
like a surprise hatching
of tiny snakes,
stunning their prey
with good venom.
Damn boy,
you look tasty—
let me tread on
you lightly.
©2021 Carrie Magness Radna All rights reserved.
Carrie Magness Radna is an audiovisual cataloger at the New York Public Library, a choral singer and a poet who loves to travel. Her poems have previously appeared in The Oracular Tree, Mediterranean Poetry, Muddy River Poetry Review, Poetry Super Highway, Shot Glass Journal, Vita Brevis, Home Planet News, Cajun Mutt Press, Walt’s Corner, Polarity eMagazine, The Poetic Bond (VIII-X), Alien Buddha Press, Jerry Jazz Musician, Rye Whiskey Review and First Literary Review-East. Her poetry collections: Hurricanes never apologize (Luchador Press) was published in December 2019, and In the blue hour (Nirala Publications), was recently published in February 2021. Born in Norman, Oklahoma, she now lives with her husband in Manhattan, New York.
https://carriemagnessradna.com
Cajun Mutt Press 