losing our grip on purpose

By Bethany Jarmul

after Emma Bolden, with a
nod to William Carlos Williams

She couldn’t say it straight.
She told it slant like a sideways rain,
turned suffering into a simile.
In her story, Storm was my sworn
enemy. But Storm waters peppers,
primroses, & petunias. Anxiety keeps me
prompt, productive, & protected. Storm
was just a tempest in a teacup, until I
swallowed a big swig. My children wish it away,
but Storm tells my therapist it’s here to stay. Still,
I have hope that one day the clouds
will dissolve like cotton candy, blanketing
everything with floss sugar—so sweet & so cold.

Bethany Jarmul is an Appalachian writer and poet. She’s the author of two chapbooks, including a mini-memoir Take Me Home available now from Belle Point Press. Her debut poetry collection Lightning Is a Mother is forthcoming with ELJ Editions in 2025. Her work has been published in many magazines including Rattle, Brevity, Salamander, and South Florida Poetry Journal. Her writing was selected for Best Spiritual Literature 2023 and Best Small Fictions 2024, and has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize, The Best of the Net, Best Microfiction, and Wigleaf Top 50.