PoetryIssue 07 | November 2009

South Africa

by Sarah J. Sloat

I hate the persistence of footsteps
and the dust that chokes up
in gulps when crossing the land
that covers the diamond mines.
Particular boots are my fancy.
Rubber heels work best on wet
asphalt, and black is a color
that compliments abruptness.
I have walked over fields,
spelunked through hardscrabble
on my way to the city.
I don’t like the sound of rubber
on fungus, nor the sandal that thwacks
like more threatening leathers.
Mostly I like to slice my ankles
through weeping love grass, passive
grass all dewed and delicious, 
shifty grass without
a damned thing to cry about.

About the author

Sarah J. Sloat lives in Germany.

Read our current issue:


Two poems by Anne Babson
Vignette, Townhouse, 9 a.m. by Troy Cunio
Night Becomes Day Over the West by Megan Foley
Yukon River Aurora by D. B. Goman
Two Poems by David Havird
Cretan Love Letter by Emily Linstrom
Holland by Rick Mullin
Fear in Kenya by Kristina Pfleegor
The Lounge Lizard by Ed Shacklee
Two Poems by Sarah J. Sloat
Night Flight by Vicki Stannard
Koinonia Farms by Alina Stefanescu
Thessaloniki, Four a.m. by Anastasia Vassos
Imaginary Oceans by Jason Warren
Two Poems by F. J. Williams

Postcard prose

It’s Salty by Kelly Hill

Travel notes

Anchorage in the Great Land by Karen Benning
The Value of Small Money by Megan Hallinan
Screensaver by Sandra Larson
Thirty Cents by Tommy McAree
Gokarna by Kate McCahill
Going Places by Rachel Miller-Howard
Susanville CA: Notes From The Road by Susan Volchok