M

Mother — Port of Spain

by Beverly Jackson

From the bed, my head heavy as hibiscus, I watch her zip into a strapless gown, then sit at her dressing table. She touches Joy to her wrists. Across the veranda, the Trinidadian night is spangled like navy tulle. I breathe deeply, waiting for her perfume to make me giggle. I kick my legs, eyes shut as the tropics rain inside me. “Are you being silly?” she asks, studying her face in the mirror as she presses red lips to a tissue. I tumble to the floor, too small for this world, assaulted, undone.


Beverly A. Jackson is an artist making memories in Naples, Florida, living alongside an alligator in a backyard lake.

What is compression to you, both in general in in this piece?

Memories, to me, are compressed life. Like little marbles, they rattle around in my brain, just a few quarks, not the whole hadron. My head is full of marbles, this being one of them.

News

Check out the write-up of the journal in The Writer.

Matter Press recently released titles from Meg Boscov, Abby Frucht, Robert McBrearty, Tori Bond, Kathy Fish, and Christopher Allen. Click here.

Matter Press is now offering private flash fiction workshops and critiques of flash fiction collections here.

Submissions

Poetry, creative nonfiction, and fiction/prose poetry submissions are now OPEN. The reading period for standard submissions closes June 15, 2021. Topical Thursdays’ submissions are open year-round. Submit here.

Upcoming

04/08 • Dominic Viti
04/10 • Nancy Connors
04/12 • Niles Reddick
04/14 • Martins Deep
04/15 • Anastasia Jill
04/17 • Joanne Lozar Glenn
04/19 • Robin Neidorf
04/21 • Martins Deep
04/22 • Autumn Bettinger
04/26 • TBD
04/28 • Martins Deep
05/03 • TBD
O5/05 • Martins Deep
05/10 • TBD
05/17 • TBD
05/24 • TBD
05/31 • TBD