Alina Zollfrank – Writers Resist

Winter in Certain American Cities

By Alina Zollfrank

To reduce this season to snapshots, headshots, gunshots
does not do them—what was that word again?—
justice. Did (just-) abandon (-ice)?

What makes for cold truth?
Folded donut cartons?
Warm cups of something sweet?
Snow mounts, decorative and defensive?
Does a candle vigil, a prayer poem, an obit
mean we combine
(just-) again with (-ice)?

“It’s just ice,” my kids said when I worried
they might slip. Massive boots, fluffy scarves,
mittens collided in our safe, safe street.
Gingerly, gingerly I stepped outside. Sudden
giggle burbles rose when my arms took flight.
My heart, remembering childhood’s glitter magic,
flitted on skidding soles.
“Just ice?”—no, this winter was so much more.

Let’s rejoice, neighbors, rejoice.
Joy on slippery slope
becomes our shield in the face of weather.

Alina Zollfrank dreams trilingually in the Pacific Northwest. Her work has won the DIAJ Award and been nominated repeatedly for Best of the Net and The Pushcart Prize. She has more upcoming in The MacGuffin, Salt Hill, Thimble, Reckon Review, and Sunlight Press. Alina is a grateful recipient of the Washington Artist Trust Grant, committed disability advocate, and hapless but hopeful gardener.

Photo credit: Cecilie Bomstad on Unsplash

A Note from Writers Resist
Thank you for reading! If you appreciate creative resistance and would like to support it, you can make a small, medium or large donation to Writers Resist on our Give a Sawbuck page.

NOPE

By Alina Zollfrank

I’m an app balker. Proof?
            You can do this on your cell phone,
eager salespeople soothe
                        and I, I refuse –
            Just check in on your screen,
the medical clinic suggests
            and I, I walk right in and demand
                        the eye contact that’s owed –
            It’s easy to transfer funds this way,
pesters my credit union,
            and I, I stash wadded cash
            to the tune of no one –
                        But that’s how we do attendance,
school staff bristle
            and I ink-scribble my autograph –

My rebel smile so wide
I can taste the earwax.

The willful ocean wave has one job to do
and so do I. An orca in a clownfish-
schooled sea. An app balker in this,
this land of feigned connect – I forge
communion. Drummed lone morse code
washes away the unnecessary –

My smacking flukes d/i/s/r/u/p/t

Alina Zollfrank dreams trilingually in the Pacific Northwest. She believes artists and writers are humanity’s true pulse, social media might just kill our essence, and produce should be shared with neighbors. Her work has been nominated for Best of the Net and The Pushcart Prize and recently appeared in Orchards Poetry Journal, Heimat Review, SAND, Eastern Iowa Review, Sierra Nevada Review, Tipton Poetry Journal, Comstock Review, The Braided Way, and others. Alina is a grateful recipient of the 2024 Washington Artist Trust Grant and committed disability advocate.

Photo credit: Amit Gupta via a Creative Commons license.

A note from Writers Resist
Thank you for reading! If you appreciate creative resistance and would like to support it, you can make a small, medium or large donation to Writers Resist on our Give a Sawbuck page.