West Trade Review: "VENUS AT CONEY ISLAND" by Liza Rose

Liza Rose

VENUS AT CONEY ISLAND

at the shore of her birth, seafoam and salt burn

my freshly-shaven legs. i allow myself to be

cleansed, baptized, born again, with my head

dipped back in fish piss and city runoff—

let me be made beautiful, Botticellian

clumps of wet hair clinging to my back and

collarbones. let the midsummer air

dry it in breathy waves. let me find a Venus comb

twisted like my bones. let me be free as a nymph as i am

searching for shells among the bottle caps—

black scallops, cowry, clam, golden-ratio swirls

that were once homes, and that i leave

in the dust-sand where they belong, taking only

two for my altar to the goddess. let me love this body.

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Image by Erika Chimi Pexels

Liza Rose is a poet from rural Pennsylvania now living in New York City with her barn-born orange cat, Chai Honey. She received her MFA from NYU’s creative writing program in the spring. Her work has been published by Academy of American Poets, Soft Union, Mantis, Jabberwock Review, Vernacular, among others. She loves insects, horror, being alive, and much more. She is forever curious about everything.

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