Emily Ratto 

is an MFA Candidate at Saint Mary’s College of California. Her poetry is spiritual, and reflects her belief that the moon may help and love you more than some people. She has an interest in creating a discourse with reality, following intuitive motions, and exploring womanhood.


IN THE 17TH CENTURY

Women began leaving
Their husbands for looms.
This old practice I believe
We should take up again
Especially in the wake of
So many disappointing man
Thighs. The real losers are
Not the ones who aren’t winners
They’re the ones we imagine
Have imagined fucking us in a
Blue house with a fish pond.
True or not true—the vagina is
A four pronged flower not
A knitted piece of art presented
in woven drops that
are as soft as me.
I hear messages from the beetle
On my jacket the fern pressed in
My book they say your body it
Wants to talk to my body—
First in sign.
We know what it’s like
To knit our
protestations
with our own fur
you and your simplicity aren’t
going to
change that
—even if we’ve
imagined fucking
you too