Martina Reisz Newberry
Martina Reisz Newberry has been included in The Cenacle, Cog, Blue Nib, Braided Way, Roanoake Review, THAT Literary Review, Mortar Magazine, and many other literary magazines in the U.S. and abroad. Her work is included in the anthologies Marin Poetry Center Anthology, Moontide Press Horror Anthology, A Decade of Sundays: L.A.'s Second Sunday Poetry Series-The First Ten Years and others.She has been awarded residencies at Yaddo Colony for the Arts, Djerassi Colony for the Arts, and Anderson Center for Disciplinary Arts. Passionate in her love for Los Angeles, Martina currently lives there with her husband, Brian, a Media Creative.
RINGING SOUND FROM THE "RARE DISEASE CATALOGUE"
Tim, my ex-husband’s friend,
woke up one morning with
Bell’s Palsy. His mouth and eye
drooped sadly to one side.
Tim said it made him look
like an axe murderer.
Though the doctor said it would,
Tim’s Palsy never cleared up.
He drank Gewurztraminer
with my ex and accepted
countless meal invitations
which I cooked and served.
I smiled at his compliments
about the food, “the pretty chef.”
We were friends for 12 years
before his brother called
to tell us about the revolver
with black tape on the grip,
how its dark eye met
Tim’s Bell’s eye and how
the shot echoed over the entire
trailer park where they both lived,
how it woke everyone. It was 3 a.m.
At the wake after the funeral,
Tim’s brother got drunk
as a cooter. He cried on my
shoulder, said, “My brother
had a crush on you. He said,
with his face the way it was,
he’d never ask you for a kiss.
But you’d have kissed him,
wouldn’t you?” I said yes
I would, of course I would.
When we got home, my ex
said I was a slut and hit me
in the face. My ears rang
for the next two days.
©2020 West Trade Review
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
