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                           _________________________________

Shelly Reed
Shelly Reed: faceted as your mother's best stone and a recluse with a fetish for yes, shoes. She's worked in the cosmetic, electric sunlight and medical professions and runs a five star bed and breakfast for stray cats. Her poetry has recently appeared or is scheduled for appearance with Seeker Magazine, Atomic Petals, Snow Monkey, Thunder Sandwich, Eleven Bulls, 42opus, Poets In Tents Literary Journal, and Whistling Shade. Shelly hales from Iowa where it ain't over until the pig squeals and bad hairdos come a dime a dozen.





    HOME MOVIE
    by Shelly Reed

                   _________________________________


In reel to reel we swing
through afternoons along Leado
when our family still fell
within the parameters of
Average American Household.

We make a tryst sealed in blood to
color outside the lines.

You have a passport,
a wardrobe of saris
and send black stones for holidays.

I have a past life, a closet filled
with cursive confessions
and send my daughter on holidays.

I remember wanting your name
but getting mine, like a diagnosis
or a past due notice.