SHAWNA ERVIN

P


Plastic chair in windowless police station
interview room, a pen rolls across
photocopied drawing of teenage girl,
arms by her sides, eyes vacant, hair limp,
naked. I pinch my thighs under the table, bite
the inside of my cheek. I remember phone call
asking for help, for pastor dad preaching, eyes closed,
palms lifted in prayer, the shape of his palms
purple on my back and legs. Congregation
shivered with Praise Jesus; my toes wriggled
in pinched shoes. Poverty made us pure, hunger
refined out wants. Anger slips across my smile.
One quick circle on the drawing,
another, I push the pen toward truth
that can no longer be pretended away. 

Shawna Ervin has an MFA in nonfiction and poetry . She is a poetry reader for Adroit Journal and an alum of Bread Loaf, Kenyon Review, and Tin House conferences. She is a member of faculty of the Tupelo Press Teen Writing Center. Recent publications include Bangalore Review, Juked, Cagibi, American Literary Review, Rappahannock Review, Drunk Monkeys, Blue Mesa Review, The Maine Review, Sonora Review, Sweet: A Literary Confection, and elsewhere.