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Have you ever longed to recapture it? 
Exorcise the demons of that sacred place 

that some label dark and dank 
like a haunted cave; 

Send forth gallons of crimson lining 
when the anger overwhelms 
like a liquid primal scream; 

Provide the mouth of a river 
to increase the life force flow 
into a gratifying flood? 

Tonight, in the dark 
a girl cries with shame-

The blood came for the first time 
and the whole class saw it. 

But thousands of years ago, in the dark 
the witch women of the moon 
laughed/ danced/ sang, 

Giving thanks for what stained 
the ground beneath bare feet. 

Cultivation 
By Colleen Card 

Plant me bare 
between tilled rows of seedling wheat 
and fill my mouth with marrow of earth. 
Let rain deluge my pores 
and flood my veins 
till hidden seeds 
burst and curl and pierce 
through layers of flesh 
to blossom 
in bright red drops 
beneath the aching sun. 

2 Poetry 

-
Farmer's Market. We thumb our r 
at doilies, baked goods, radishes­
torhanya calls: 
gold nugget nibs of noodles 
homemade by hands 
that await us-
The Hungarians. 

A dash of paprika-red freckles 
speckle the liver-spots of 
his knowing hands. 
Unfurling like the gnarled 
knots of tree roots 
they knead, fo ld, and 
knead the dumpling dough. 

Atop a leather stool his grandson 
perches, pinching off dough 
for the drying. 
Still pinching, he winks at the 
wrinkled wad of 
ones I thrust out 
for the torhanya. 

Apple-plump and apple-sweet shin 
Yellow Vidalia while 
scores of garlic 
cloves hang poised for the undead 
Dice both fine ly. 
Salvation costs 
a crumpled dollar. 

Bowed down to the mother-herb, ' 
Flat Leaf, not Italian 


