A woman should not put her high heel
through the windshield of her car
on a date night with her husband.
She shouldn’t toss all the love tokens
from their dresser, watch perfume bottles
shatter and pour on their wood floor.
A woman should not flick her iPad
through a living room into a bookcase
of any kind. She should not get into
a black car (windshield still busted),
and drive through Seattle at 92 MPH--
90 W, 5 N, 520 E, 405 S—full circle
to a house—theirs. Picking glass out
of the carpet, a woman shouldn’t leave
a shard in her thumb. She shouldn’t
squeeze it out with her fingers
two days later—see her blood
dry on the kitchen countertop.
She shouldn’t be speechless when he knocks
her against a brick hearth. She should
open the flue and let her voice boom.
Sarah Jones is a poet and freelance writer living in Seattle. Before joining the Poetry Northwest staff, Sarah was an editorial intern with C&R Press and an assistant poetry editor of Lunch Ticket and Soundings Review. Sarah received her MFA in Poetry from Antioch University, Los Angeles. Her work has been featured on NPR and The Bridge. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Entropy magazine, The Normal School, New Ohio Review, The Raven Chronicles, American Literary Review, Yes, Poetry, and many other places. dancing girl press & studio will publish Sarah’s first chapbook in April 2018. You can find her at www.sarahjonespoet.com | Twitter: @writer_sejones |Instagram: @writer.sejones.