Jessica Piazza

Poetry

Jessica Piazza is the author of three poetry collections and a children’s book. Born and raised in Brooklyn, New York, Jessica now lives in Los Angeles, where she teaches at the University of Southern California. She co-founded Bat City Review and Gold Line Press, and is the 2019 recipient of the Amy Clampitt residency award. Her poems have recently appeared in Best American Poetry, Smartish Pace, and 32 Poems.

Alice, 41

You fall asleep. Your careworn body falls into a dream of following. A man with skin so pale it’s white, a twitching man whose nervousness seduces you. He calls out; checks his watch. He rushes past, a rush of longing rising in you. So, you go. A fall. A sprain. A needling need. A slow descent, descent, descent. Alight. The crush of gravity, of shelves, of too small doors. Too dizzy, halfway drunk with want, you drink. A cure for the hard-bitten heart: to shrink so small you’re almost gone. Distraught, forlorn, you eat some cake, but barely feel alive. He’s late, but you have only just arrived.

This piece comes from a manuscript I've been working on called Woman, 41: an exploration of what it's like to be a 41-year-old woman in the world, right in this specific cultural, political, and social moment. Some of the poems are inspired by famous women, some by women who aren't famous, per se, but who have been in the news, and some are about me. The weird thing about this particular poem is that it's the only one I wrote that's about a fictional character. Down the line, I might not include it in the book because I recognize that it doesn't really fit, but I just loved the idea of this curious, bright, stubborn, interesting girl all grown up, but still following those proverbial, pesky white rabbits who can never quite be fully caught.

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