MORE SUGAR SUITES
by Amelia Harrington
When a sensation (the smell of ginger, hot pavement, a hangnail) brings me back to now, there is a chance for some momentary oasis of no thought but my body. Sometimes I'm lucky enough to be quietly open to the world. "Quiet Body" is my effort to name the encounter—it resists language—maybe it's a mystic state—forgive me. What a great part of my life is wasted making shrines to my mistakes. What a marvel to have a split second of unmediated experience! All I can do is welcome myself in; there's no metaphor. Uncomplicated goodness is worth celebrating.
Amelia Harrington’s poems have appeared or are forthcoming in WARM MILK, SPORAZINE, and elsewhere. In 2020 they graduated with the inaugural class of the Randolph College MFA program. Now they are circulation manager for South Dakota Review, a PhD student in the English Department at the University of South Dakota, and a coordinator in the university's Writing Center.