Two Poems| by Jessie Knoles

Family Reunions

my grandma has a fidget spinner
i started my period just now while sitting
on my mother’s couch
the thing about being at home is that
my parents are hoarders even their
ketchup expired months ago

when my mom and i watch a movie
we separately sit scrolling on phones
i’m consistently thinking about words i’m not writing
or texts i’m not receiving or the eggs
that fall out of me each month,
what they would have become, how they
probably feel better this way, smeared onto cloth

i feel better this way too except i actually don’t
i think of my grandma sitting in her chair at night,
fidget spinner spinning between thumb and index finger




seeking a place to lay my eggs and die
seeking solitude of sorts but
only the right amount of it

seeking the perfect zucchini squash
seeking the cheapest airline ticket
seeking a nation that still feels
seeking the first box of tampons
my mother bought for me, seeking
the strongest beer to chug

seeking a place to rest my head without shame
seeking a father who never worried about me
seeking a mother whose body never hurt
seeking the piano that could play itself
seeking a boy who wants to meet me on a train
seeking a boy who knows where estonia is
seeking my sense of self i never found—seeking

the conclusion to all of this.




jessie knoles‘ poems have been on peach magazine, cosmonauts avenue, the boiler journal, and bad pony magazine, among others. she lives in washington state and is a poetry editor for hobart.

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