by Sandrine Letellier
MOBY-FLICK OF LIGHT
My brother drinks to neutralize the blow
and does blow because he likes to drink;
it’s not a foolproof science.
I like to squirt water with my mouth.
Any whale expelling water from
its blowhole is drowning, did you know that?
I’m searching for air.
I’m looking at Chinatown
from the fourth floor of his hospital room,
red lanterns
good fortune
unless you’re the third concubine.
My brother is fidgeting for his morphine shot
he wants to get out of bed to go defend Ukraine.
I tell him he’s already fighting for his life
He gives me the finger
and rolls over on his swollen back.
A hump like a snow hill
Carlos the janitor is making his rounds
singing from head to hips,
I ask him how he does it.
“I love my job, I like to make people smile.”
His teeth are lightsaber blue.
A shiver splits me in half,
my spectral father is hovering over my back.
I take another sip of water.
GOSSAMER
A woman on fire
winding skeins of red wool.
My hands are full of furrows,
I’m frightened, sweetheart.
I sit with my plowed land
on a grey sofa.
To yield fruit as I eat box wine.
I put a cross of ashes
down by the river
to test the fluency of my dialogue.
I am a girl who speaks to you
when no dust is to be heard.
I mourn the living,
sometimes too, the sparrows.
They’ve scavenged my throat.
PIPE DREAM
After Frank Stanford
I dream
I am a river’s confluence
hesitant to pour myself
into a single channel.
The wolf’s jaws are ripping
through the edges of the dam,
time is a drifting boat.
Above my head
a Kauaʻi ʻōʻō
duets with silence.
I hear the wind drop the knife
from its mouth.
I’m afraid heedless hands
will find us.
A MOUTHFUL OF STUMP
The kitchen light is off
but the window holds
a sword to penumbra’s throat.
In the pasture, men and their
plastic shovels are burying
the moon. A horse neighs
in the stable, another thrashes
salt into his wounds. The children
are almost all sleeping. One is
holding a jar of earthlight, she
presses the lid against
her cardboard heart.
Sandrine Letellier finds inspiration in nature, music, and visual arts. From Montreal, her work has been published in Antiphony, Sontag Mag, Shadow and Sax, Sky Island journal, Wild Roof journal, Pinhole Poetry, Bitter Melon Review and others. Her chapbook Urchin was released in 2025 (Shadow and Sax Press) and her chapbook Basic Positions in 2026 (Dancing Girl Press). She is the founder and EIC of Azarão Lit Journal and an associate editor at Shadow and Sax.