Meet Our New Intern: Abby Palmer

Me and my childhood cat.

I tend to view myself in phases of my life: the little girl, too full of curiosity and oddly shaped clothes. The preteen who is suddenly, deeply aware of the fact that she exists in this world and other people can see her. The teen who shrunk quite like Alice did when she drank the bottle labeled “drink me” and cried herself into something that can fit through a keyhole or door’s mouth. The sickly 21-year-old celebrating legality with a new medication infusion instead of sugared-up vodka. The now adult who wants to believe she finally is figuring things out, but has found that the version she wishes to be is still quite the opposite of the soft spoken sweet silhouette of a body that my brain follows around.

There are a lot of labels I can fit myself into. I am an INFJ. I am a Libra. I’m an Enneagram 4w5. I love taking obscure personality quizzes that give me even more labels. I think it’s because I’m still figuring out how I perceive myself. Maybe I can’t quite tell you who I am, but I can tell you what is real about my life and my death.

I am going to die. Well, my liver is. But technically speaking yours will too. We all die. But when I was fifteen I was diagnosed with a rare degenerative liver disease called Primary Sclerosing Cholangitis. A mouth full, I know. It’s PSC for short, and while I could use this space to write an academic paper on the medical ins and outs of this disease, all that really matters is there’s no cure, no treatment, and it kills. It’s been hard not to let something so massively life changing not leak into every aspect of my identity. I am a woman, and I am sick. I am a student, and I am ill. I am a daughter, and I have to be cared for. I am a girlfriend, and I feel like a burden. Everywhere I turn there is a reflection that says I am dying a lot faster than you are.

Being diagnosed with such a scary illness makes an existentialism speed-run quite possible in a few short years. Who am I if I am not alive? What do I want to do for a living? What is the purpose of working towards anything if I might not live to see the fulfillment of it? Does my cat love me the way I love him? What is the point of writing these words for you to read? What is writing? How much longer do I have left? How is my brain reading and writing at the same time? When is my next dose? My next doctor’s appointment?

This line of dreadful thinking is just as degenerative as my disease state. I didn’t want to become a victim to my illness. I know I will die, but so will all of us. The real victory is not letting it destroy and consume what I have left of life. After my parents’ divorce, I found myself more motivated than ever to become something greater than the damaged goods my body left me in. So who am I if not this sick girl?

I’m not quite sure if I should explain what I want to be, what I think I am, who my peers see me as, my Mom’s opinion that makes me, her “tweet pea,” out to be a princess with a sword and book in hand. (Hi, Mom. I know you’re reading this, I love you.) Or maybe my Dad’s version of me that probably includes the words “demonic” “disrespectful” and or “evil”. (Yes, unfortunately, I’m so serious. And no, don’t worry, I am not in contact with him.) What do they say? Everyone is the villain in someone else’s story? Something like that. I think somehow I am all of these versions of myself. I’m still the little girl with her ducky blanky. I am still the boyish kid running to catch up to my older brother and his friends. I am most definitely the very strange child who proudly wore the shirt with a puffy paint drawing of her cat wearing a crown like everyday of fifth grade. I am a teacher to small children and also a student myself. I am quite the introvert, but I get very bold and very loud when I feel that anyone might need me or there is even the slightest sort of injustice. I am always looking for something new to learn about. I still love cats. I am chronically ill, and I am going to die. But since I am still here, you must endure these words. It is a privilege to even be able to consider what I am and how you might think of me. Therefore, I would like to reduce myself to the only thing which allows me to be all of this: alive.


Abigail Palmer (she/her) is a current English student at the University of Tennessee. Born in the north but raised in the south, she has always had a place in the in-between of things. In between reader and writer, student and teacher, chronically ill and healthy–she is seeking to defy such labels to become whoever, wherever, however she desires to be. That currently looks like a preschool teacher, beloved (of course) daughter, adored (obviously) girlfriend, up-and-coming cat mom, and a forever nominee of the “Super Opinionated” award. If she’s not incessantly analyzing every piece of media she consumes, she’s probably intellectualizing her feelings while making ultra specific playlists that no one can relate to but her! You can find her on Instagram @zer0cooll.

Sundress Reads: Review of Lullaby of Love: Selected Poems

Sundress Reads black-and-white logo with a sheep sitting on a stool next to the words "Sundress Reads." The sheep is wearing glasses and holding a cup filled with a hot drink in one hoof and holding an open book in the other.
A desk with an open laptop, a lamp with a white shade, a document, a pencil holder filled with pens, a mouse, and desk decorations overlook a large window. There are also plants perched on the wall above the desk and glasses on the sill of the window. The overall room is dark and the light outside from the window is the main thing that illuminates the room. Outside the window, it is grey and there is a large tree with branches. There is a distant house behind the branches and a path leading out of the yard. The ground outside the window is a light muted yellow. The words "Lullaby of Love" is typed at the bottom of the image and underneath that in smaller text is "Selected Poems." The author's name "Rebecca Winning" is in large font at the top of the image.

Lullaby of Love: Selected Poems (2025) by Rebecca Winning consists of poems that explore various shades of love and emotions. Winning writes beautifully to take a moment to appreciate the little things in life. The poems are marked with vivid imagery, personification, and metaphors, allowing a glimpse into Winning’s personal reflection of life and the world.

There are many recurring themes throughout Lullaby of Love, including love, hope, loneliness, patience, infidelity, daylight, darkness, and nature. Winning beautifully creates these stories, allowing the reader to visualize each line in great detail and live in that poem for a moment. Winning ties every day tasks and the nature to human feelings, showing how the world and emotions are reflections of each other. Whether Winning is exploring the feelings of infidelity when one is writing a letter to another or the feeling of loneliness after seeing a UFO, each poem is created with great care and fleshed out with beautiful details of the emotions each speaker experiences.

Weather plays a significant role in mirroring human feelings, especially to convey feelings of love. For example, snow is used often to describe warmth and love for another. When “snow dizzies down / in a hush of relentless joy,” the snow is a mirror for the love the speaker feels for another (Winning 59). The speaker “will remember the light and wonder / of loving [them], bringing in wood,” which shows how they will associate snow as this beautiful cozy feeling when remembering loving someone (Winning 59). Winning also explores how two people “were never prepared / for the weather,” drawing a direct comparison to how two people were never prepared to experience the burning emotion of love (Winning 43). And just like how love can become “a blizzard in [one’s] head,” snow can become unpredictably less cozy with the added variable of wind, turning it into a blizzard (Winning 43).

Other extremes of love are explored, such as heartbreak and closure, are delved into, such as in “Fall Housecleaning”. When the speaker cleans up their house, they are actually sweeping their feelings for their former lover “out with a vengeance / and [letting] new sunlight fly around the rooms” (Winning 23). By the end of the poem, the speaker is able to gain closure when a left-behind kazoo “brings the whispers / of strange comfort” (Winning 23). Winning beautifully transitions the act of keeping a seemingly plain object to being able to finally heal one’s heart.

Personification is a steady device used throughout Lullaby of Love to further allow readers to experience peace and take a moment to enjoy the present. Winning writes,

on your couch I learn a dreamless sleep,

and when the window yawns to a morning

all mystical and chaste,

even I awaken into grace. (11)

Here she compares how even windows wake up to slow and peaceful mornings. On a daily basis, many of us do not usually focus on the sound of clocks ticking; however, in the stillness of mornings, we become aware of it “ticking its heart out” (Winning 25). The use of personification throughout Winning’s writing helps readers to stay in the present moment and take notice of everything.

Winning also uses the formatting of stanzas and punctuation to emphasize fear and panic. “2020 Burning” is set during the time of covid and wildfire season. The short stanzas in the poem demonstrate the panic breaking through each line like how one would breathe faster when panic takes over emotions. However, as the poem reads on, ellipsis takes hold with “and yet… / and yet…” like when one takes deep calming breaths to slow down their heart rate. In this case, the ellipsis is a transition from fear to hope. This moment is when the poem’s tone takes a turn. At the end, the periods after “I need to stop. / Breathe.” actually feels like a physical breath the reader is taking with the speaker (Winning 78).

Winning is further able to convey panic when she writes short lines with only commas separating them and they mirror short breaths of air like when one is drowning and trying to gulp it in. She writes,

The glow of my computer

brings bad news in waves,

another death every minute,

dozens lost every hour,

thousands more sickened,

struggling to breathe,

struggling to climb out

of that blue wave

then drowning.

Drowning. (79)

With the one word, “drowning,” the silence becomes loud even through words on a page. Winning is able to create this format that channels the multitude of emotions the speaker feels directly into the readers.

In Lullaby of Love, Winning explores various human emotions and describes them in great creative detail using nature and objects as mirrors. These poems create a ‘lullaby of love’ because they all come together to build a unique, soothing melody of feelings where the reader can laser in on details that are usually overlooked. I, too, am able to take a moment to just breathe and appreciate each small element, like the sun draping over plants or the jangling of keys. It feels like a breath of fresh air to fully live in each poem with the speaker and author, and I am taking what I learned to treasure the present moment in my own life.

Lullaby of Love: Selected Poems is available on Bookshop.org


A close-up of an Asian woman with long brown hair and front bangs smiling at the camera. She is wearing a light tan cardigan and a cream-colored collar shirt with a navy blue and red ribbon tied in the front. An empty street with two parked cars is behind her and she is standing in front of a pink curtain and green hedge.

Marian Kohng (she/her/hers) is a proud Korean American and an Editorial Intern at Sundress Publications and a Traffic Copy Editor at a local news station in Tucson, AZ. She also has a Bachelor’s in Neuroscience and Cognitive Science and a Master’s in Marketing. She loves to get lost in a good book and will read just about anything, including the back of the shampoo bottle.

30 Undergrad Literary Journals to Submit to

Are you looking to submit your latest poem, piece of fiction or nonfiction, or artwork to one of the exceptional undergraduate journals in the country? Look no further than the following list!

1. 30 North

30 North is the national undergraduate literary journal of North Central College in Naperville, Illinois. 30 North publishes undergraduate poetry, fiction, non-fiction, and artwork in their annual print journal. They also publish author interviews and reviews conducted and written by their staff online. Currently taking submissions!

2. The Albion Review

The Albion Review is a national undergraduate literary journal based out of Albion College in Albion, Michigan. The Review publishes works of short fiction, poetry, creative nonfiction, and visual art on an annual basis. Submissions currently closed.

3. Applause

Applause is a national literary arts and culture magazine housed at the University of Arkansas -Fort Smith open for submissions from undergraduates around the world. They publish poetry, fiction, essays, and art. Submissions for Spring 2026 close February 16, 2026!

4. The Blank Quill

The Blank Quill is a digital literary magazine focused on platforming BIPOC and LGBTQ+ writers. Submissions for Spring 2026 issue close February 28, 2026!

5. The Blue Route

The Blue Route is an international literary journal for undergraduate writers based out of Widener University in Chester, Pennsylvania. They publish works of poetry, fiction, creative non-fiction, and artwork biannually. Currently closed for submissions, next submission window will open in August.

6. Collision Literary Magazine

Collision Literary Magazine is an international literary journal for undergraduate writers and is housed at the University of Pittsburgh in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. They publish works of poetry, fiction, creative non-fiction, and artwork annually. Submissions close February 15, 2026!

7. Dark River Review

Dark River Review is the national undergraduate literary journal of Alabama State University in Montgomery, Alabama. They publish works of short fiction, poetry, creative nonfiction, and visual art on an annual basis. Currently accepting submissions!

8. Echo Literary Review

Echo Review is a literary magazine devoted to history, whether that be a past relative or the Napoleonic wars. The are a proud champion of young, marginalized, and otherwise systematically disadvantaged writers. While history has a tendency to favor certain groups over others, Echo takes great pride in being an active advocate in closing these gaps. Currently closed for submissions.

9. Eclipse Literary Magazine

Eclipse is a literary magazine that celebrates the power of creativity in all its forms, including visual art, prose, poetry, essays, and music. Our mission is to showcase user submissions in a space where diverse voices and artistic expression can shine. Whether through words or images, we aim to foster a community that values and uplifts creativity in all its depths. Currently accepting submissions!

10. Equinox Literary Magazine

Equinox Literary Magazine is a national undergraduate literary magazine based out of the University of Arkansas in Little Rock, Arkansas. They publish works of fiction, poetry, hybrid writing, short screenplays, and visual art annually. They also host the David Jauss Fiction Prize and the Jo McDougall Poetry Prize each year. Currently accepting submissions!

11. Furrow

Furrow is the national undergraduate literary journal of the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. They publish a print issue each spring and feature new work on their website regularly. They accept unpublished poetry, fiction, nonfiction, art, and comics. Submissions close February 27, 2026.

12. Glass Mountain

Glass Mountain is an undergraduate literary journal at the University of Houston in Houston, Texas. They accept previously unpublished fiction, creative nonfiction, poetry, art, and everything in between on an annual basis. Currently accepting submissions!

13. Green Blotter Literary Magazine

Green Blotter Literary Magazine is a literary magazine produced by undergraduate students at Lebanon Valley College in Annville, Pennsylvania. They publish works of poetry, fiction, creative non-fiction, and artwork on an annual basis. Currently accepting submissions!

14. Inscape

Inscape is an international literary magazine published at Washburn University in Topeka, Kansas. They publish unpublished fiction, poetry, creative nonfiction, and visual art annually. Submissions will reopen on August 1, 2026.

15. The Kudzu Review

The Kudzu Review is the national undergraduate literary journal of Florida State University in Tallahassee, Florida. The Review publishes works of short fiction, poetry, creative nonfiction, and visual art biannually. Accepting submissions until March 27, 2026!

16. Mistake House

Mistake House is Principia College’s digital literary journal for students and professional writers and artists. Based in Elsah, Illinois, they publish works of poetry, fiction, and artwork on an annual basis. Mistake House also offers three Editor’s Prizes of $100 each year: one for fiction, one for poetry, and one for photography. Submissions open until March 15, 2026.

17. Mosaic Art & Literary Journal

Mosaic is the University of California, Riverside’s undergraduate literary journal. In 1959, Mosaic began as a small group of poets, and they’re still going strong nearly 60 years later, having expanded into a home for all writers, musicians, and artists. They are completely undergraduate-run, and publish one volume of prose, poetry, and art every year. Currently taking submissions!

18. Outrageous Fortune

Outrageous Fortune is the first online literary magazine created for undergraduates by undergraduates. Based out of Mary Baldwin University in Staunton, Virginia, Outrageous Fortune publishes works of poetry, fiction, nonfiction, film, and visual art in their issues. Currently taking submissions! The deadline to submit for Volume 16 is March 31, 2026.

19. Polaris Literary Magazine

Polaris Literary Magazine is the national undergraduate journal of arts and literature at Ohio Northern University located in Ada, Ohio. They publish works of poetry, fiction, non-fiction, and visual art on an annual basis. Currently closed for submissions.

20. Prairie Margins

Prairie Margins is a national undergraduate literary journal based out of Bowling Green State University in Bowling Green, Ohio. Prairie Margins publishes poetry, fiction, creative nonfiction, art, and photography. Currently taking submissions!

21. Red Cedar Review

Red Cedar Review is the longest-running undergraduate publication in the United States. Housed at Michigan State University in East Lansing, Michigan, Red Cedar Review publishes works of fiction, nonfiction, poetry, and art every two years. Accepting submissions August 1st – October 15th, 2026.

22. Runestone

Runestone is a national undergraduate literary journal housed at Hamline University in Saint Paul, Minnesota. They accept unpublished works of fiction, creative nonfiction, poetry, and digital storytelling. Accepting submissions April 1st – October 1st of each year.

23. Sink Hollow

Sink Hollow is an international undergraduate literary magazine based out of Utah State University in Logan, Utah. They publish works of fiction, poetry, hybrid writing, short screenplays, and visual art annually. Submissions are open until March 31, 2026!

24. Short Vine

Short Vine is the international undergraduate literary journal of the University of Cincinnati in Cincinnati, Ohio. They publish works of poetry, fiction, non-fiction, and photography on an annual basis. Currently closed for submissions.

25. Violet Marginz

Violet Marginz, formerly The Alchemist Review, is a national undergraduate literary journal from the University of Illinois-Springfield. They publish prose, creative nonfiction, translation, poetry, and visual arts annually. Submissions close February 20, 2026.

26. Quirk

Quirk is the Literary and Visual Arts journal of the University of the Incarnate Word in San Antonio, Texas.
They are entirely run by student-editors seeking to give artists a creative outlet to showcase their talents on a national scale. They are looking for originality and authenticity: poets, creative writers, and visual artists. Currently closed to submissions, will reopen again in Spring 2026.

27. The Oakland

The Oakland Arts Review is an international undergraduate literary and arts journal out of Oakland University in Rochester Hills, Michigan. Their ambition is to become one of the most prominent literary journals publishing undergraduate writers throughout the world. Currently taking submissions!

28. The Allegheny Review

The Allegheny Review, in print since 1983, is the oldest national undergraduate literary magazine in the United States dedicated exclusively to undergraduate works of poetry, fiction, creative nonfiction. Published annually, the periodical showcases some of the best literature the nation’s undergraduates have to offer. The magazine is and always has been edited and produced by students at Allegheny College. The Allegheny Review considers submissions from undergraduate writers year-round. Currently taking submissions!

29. The Sucarnichee Review

Established in 1974 and named for the Sucarnochee River that runs near the University of West Alabama, The Sucarnochee Review is published annually by the University’s Department of English and History. They are student-led and student-edited and believe strongly in the value of amplifying student voices. They accept submissions year round. Currently taking submissions!

30. The Tower

The Tower is a student-run literary magazine at the University of Minnesota Twin Cities. They publish fiction, nonfiction, poetry, visual art, and hybrid works. Their annual print edition comes out in the spring, and they accept submissions in the fall of every year. Currently closed for submissions.

The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: Elegy with Clouds & by Robin Turner


This selection, chosen by Guest Editor Maggie Rue Hess, is from Elegy with Clouds & by Robin Turner (Kelsay Books 2025).

When My Mother Forgets the Word for Dahlia

Picking a favorite dahlia is like going through a button box.
- The Old Farmers Almanac

When my mother forgets the word for dahlia
it is February. It is the last day of her 84th year, the latest day
in a ruthless unspooling of days, of pandemic lockdown,
its cruel isolation, & winter, all the gardens covered over,
all our lives fallow, fallow. When my mother forgets                                        
                                              
the word for dahlia, tall flower as familiar to her as a daughter,
its name soft as psalm on the tongue, it is yet another day
of all the distances between us—every long year apart,
every rocky geography, every hurt forgiven & not
forgiven. And in that instant every distance opens wide

its spacious arms as every distance collapses & gathers
as dahlia waits snug in its button box to be found, tucked
just out of memory’s reach until it passes like miracle into me,
blossoming into speech— dahlia I say through the phone & into
my mother’s frustrated silence, her solitary sorting, sorting, sorting.

I give her back the beloved, the favorite flower, the one
she knows but can no longer name. When my mother forgets
the word for dahlia, I drive in a blinding rain to the wizened women
at the nursery called Blue Moon. They will know. They will
know the flower I have come for.


Robin Turner is the author of two poetry chapbooks: bindweed & crow poison (Porkbelly Press) and Elegy with Clouds & (Kelsay Books). Her work has appeared in Anacapa Review, Pithead Chapel, RattleRust & Moth, Verse Daily, The Texas Observer, and elsewhere. She is a longtime community teaching artist in Dallas currently working with writers from the Cancer Support Community of North Texas. Find her on FB and IG @robinsmithturner.

Maggie Rue Hess (she/her) is a PhD student living in Knoxville, Tennessee, with her partner and their crusty white dog. She serves as Poetry Co-Editor for Grist: A Journal of the Literary Arts. Her work has appeared in Rattle, Connecticut River Review, SWWIM, and other publications; her debut chapbook, The Bones That Map Us, was published by Belle Point Press in 2024. Maggie likes to share baked goods with friends and can be found on Instagram as @maggierue_.


The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: Surfacing by Emily Tuszynska


This selection, chosen by Guest Editor Maggie Rue Hess, is from Surfacing by Emily Tuszynska (Grayson Books 2024).

Floodplain

All morning in mid-labor
not ready for the hospital

walking the floodplain
the earth still soft
waters receded
tulip poplars
knotted sycamores
clumps of grass
ghosted with silt
the trees leaned downstream
from many floods
I clung to them
my sisters I thought if I thought at all
somehow the term did not seem wrong
the ground was washed bare
fibrous roots exposed
slack water
dusty with pollen
we walked and rested and walked again
bowing
then kneeling
to each contraction as it came
some bright bit of blue
caught on the far bank
without panic
I felt each crest carry me farther
away from you
away from familiar ground
in the spaces between
your hands
lightly—
the air on my face—
maybe I was the trees
their massive trunks shifting
as wind poured
through high branches
perhaps I was the riverbed
or the light as it pulsed between moving leaves
from all about us
a wordless insistence
deep in my interior
the forest the water rising


Emily Tuszynska’s first collection, Surfacing, received the 2023 Grayson Books Poetry Award and was published in 2024. Her recognitions include a Pushcart Prize special mention, a Dorothy Sargent Rosenberg prize, and PRISM International’s Earle Birney award, and her poetry has appeared widely in publications including Mom Egg Review, EcoTheo Review, The Georgia Review, and The Southern Review. She has been awarded a Tennessee Williams Scholarship from the Sewanee Writers Conference and a Sustainable Arts Foundation Parent Residency Fellowship from Mineral School, as well as fellowships from the Vermont Studio Center and the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts. She lives in Virginia and teaches at George Mason University. Find out more at emilytuszynska.com.

Maggie Rue Hess (she/her) is a PhD student living in Knoxville, Tennessee, with her partner and their crusty white dog. She serves as Poetry Co-Editor for Grist: A Journal of the Literary Arts. Her work has appeared in Rattle, Connecticut River Review, SWWIM, and other publications; her debut chapbook, The Bones That Map Us, was published by Belle Point Press in 2024. Maggie likes to share baked goods with friends and can be found on Instagram as @maggierue_.


The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: Surfacing by Emily Tuszynska


This selection, chosen by Guest Editor Maggie Rue Hess, is from Surfacing by Emily Tuszynska (Grayson Books 2024).

Tundra Swans at Mason Neck

At any moment half the swans are airborne,
birds loping awkwardly into heavy flight
only to veer back for another splashdown,
their wakes unzipping the sky’s half-frozen image.
Over everything floats the constant,
urgent clamor of their multitudinous calling,
layered voices airy with an arctic emptiness
brought to this protected edge of a landscape
rivered by highways, its parking lots
glittering like open water from the air.
Another winter at the refuge,
though projections show their winter territory
leaping north within ten years. There’s no
permanence. Just this cacophonous splendor,
the children too now running in circles, flapping
and shouting, birds wheeling and landing and rising,
the winter marsh all wind and current and wing.


Emily Tuszynska’s first collection, Surfacing, received the 2023 Grayson Books Poetry Award and was published in 2024. Her recognitions include a Pushcart Prize special mention, a Dorothy Sargent Rosenberg prize, and PRISM International’s Earle Birney award, and her poetry has appeared widely in publications including Mom Egg Review, EcoTheo Review, The Georgia Review, and The Southern Review. She has been awarded a Tennessee Williams Scholarship from the Sewanee Writers Conference and a Sustainable Arts Foundation Parent Residency Fellowship from Mineral School, as well as fellowships from the Vermont Studio Center and the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts. She lives in Virginia and teaches at George Mason University. Find out more at emilytuszynska.com.

Maggie Rue Hess (she/her) is a PhD student living in Knoxville, Tennessee, with her partner and their crusty white dog. She serves as Poetry Co-Editor for Grist: A Journal of the Literary Arts. Her work has appeared in Rattle, Connecticut River Review, SWWIM, and other publications; her debut chapbook, The Bones That Map Us, was published by Belle Point Press in 2024. Maggie likes to share baked goods with friends and can be found on Instagram as @maggierue_.


The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: Surfacing by Emily Tuszynska


This selection, chosen by Guest Editor Maggie Rue Hess, is from Surfacing by Emily Tuszynska (Grayson Books 2024).

Incarnate

            after Desiderio da Settignano’s marble tondo “Meeting of Christ 
            and John the Baptist as Youths”

Under Desiderio da Settignano’s tools, the two boys must have
pressed up and out as through a veil, a caul, the marble block

warmed by his polishing, as if stone were transmuting to skin,
mouths panting softly, opening, soft eyes opening in luminous

stone. Open. Open. That prayer of childbirth, a desperate
willed acceptance, choosing what can’t not be chosen: the body’s

dumb surrender. Be broken, torn; be opened, flayed; be naked,
shaking. Desiderio, what tore you open? Though your story’s lost,

these your stone children bear the sweet mark of sorrow,
and of the end you knew—John’s bearded head on a platter,

the gush of blood and water from Christ’s side,
and before the mystery of mysteries, the temple curtain

ripped in two. Oh, flesh. Wail, moan, be touched, be torn,
until we know the body to be nothing more than the wound

through which the spirit is pierced. Stay, stay, your chisel rang,
and fell silent. Almost six centuries later these two boys,

cut and hammered into existence, cannot stop themselves,
they must grasp each other. They are, yes, made flesh. Their hands

sink into John’s fleece tunic and they quiet themselves
to feel the heart repeating its one muffled note of astonishment.

How many times, Desiderio, did you put down your tools to touch
Christ’s cheek, here, where generations of living hands have rubbed

the sensuous marble smooth? Did you feel what Mary felt
as she touched Elizabeth—the stirring of a boy within the womb?


Emily Tuszynska’s first collection, Surfacing, received the 2023 Grayson Books Poetry Award and was published in 2024. Her recognitions include a Pushcart Prize special mention, a Dorothy Sargent Rosenberg prize, and PRISM International’s Earle Birney award, and her poetry has appeared widely in publications including Mom Egg Review, EcoTheo Review, The Georgia Review, and The Southern Review. She has been awarded a Tennessee Williams Scholarship from the Sewanee Writers Conference and a Sustainable Arts Foundation Parent Residency Fellowship from Mineral School, as well as fellowships from the Vermont Studio Center and the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts. She lives in Virginia and teaches at George Mason University. Find out more at emilytuszynska.com.

Maggie Rue Hess (she/her) is a PhD student living in Knoxville, Tennessee, with her partner and their crusty white dog. She serves as Poetry Co-Editor for Grist: A Journal of the Literary Arts. Her work has appeared in Rattle, Connecticut River Review, SWWIM, and other publications; her debut chapbook, The Bones That Map Us, was published by Belle Point Press in 2024. Maggie likes to share baked goods with friends and can be found on Instagram as @maggierue_.


The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: Surfacing by Emily Tuszynska


This selection, chosen by Guest Editor Maggie Rue Hess, is from Surfacing by Emily Tuszynska (Grayson Books 2024).

Maternity Leave

My husband brings the baby and a kiss
to where I lie in milk-wet sheets,
ripe as a pomegranate,
slick and sweet.

Hello, little slippery mouth, hello
my blind little fish, right here
my squirming one,
all searching lips and squinched eyes,
limp as soon as he latches,
cheek and eyelid beaded with milk.

Already the air at the screen
is heavy and still, the light tinged
green by new leaves.

Look at me lounging, an odalisque.

At last the baby heaves himself off
the breast with a satisfied smack
and lolls into a milk-drunk stupor.

I hear my husband’s car
pull out of the driveway,
and then the neighbor’s car,
the one with the noisy muffler,
starts up and drives away.

Everyone’s busy but me.


Emily Tuszynska’s first collection, Surfacing, received the 2023 Grayson Books Poetry Award and was published in 2024. Her recognitions include a Pushcart Prize special mention, a Dorothy Sargent Rosenberg prize, and PRISM International’s Earle Birney award, and her poetry has appeared widely in publications including Mom Egg Review, EcoTheo Review, The Georgia Review, and The Southern Review. She has been awarded a Tennessee Williams Scholarship from the Sewanee Writers Conference and a Sustainable Arts Foundation Parent Residency Fellowship from Mineral School, as well as fellowships from the Vermont Studio Center and the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts. She lives in Virginia and teaches at George Mason University. Find out more at emilytuszynska.com.

Maggie Rue Hess (she/her) is a PhD student living in Knoxville, Tennessee, with her partner and their crusty white dog. She serves as Poetry Co-Editor for Grist: A Journal of the Literary Arts. Her work has appeared in Rattle, Connecticut River Review, SWWIM, and other publications; her debut chapbook, The Bones That Map Us, was published by Belle Point Press in 2024. Maggie likes to share baked goods with friends and can be found on Instagram as @maggierue_.


The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: Surfacing by Emily Tuszynska


This selection, chosen by Guest Editor Maggie Rue Hess, is from Surfacing by Emily Tuszynska (Grayson Books 2024).

Postpartum

I keep coming back,
keep climbing the stairs
to push the button
that lets the slow notes fall,
keep making my face rise
like the moon over your crib,
keep letting my hand
be the weight to teach
your small body stillness.
Like lilies your fists unfurl.
Dusk obscures the corners
of the room, and the walls
expand, the way each day
since you came
has become an ocean,
the sharp pull of your need
through the shapeless hours
the thing that keeps me
from drowning.


Emily Tuszynska’s first collection, Surfacing, received the 2023 Grayson Books Poetry Award and was published in 2024. Her recognitions include a Pushcart Prize special mention, a Dorothy Sargent Rosenberg prize, and PRISM International’s Earle Birney award, and her poetry has appeared widely in publications including Mom Egg Review, EcoTheo Review, The Georgia Review, and The Southern Review. She has been awarded a Tennessee Williams Scholarship from the Sewanee Writers Conference and a Sustainable Arts Foundation Parent Residency Fellowship from Mineral School, as well as fellowships from the Vermont Studio Center and the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts. She lives in Virginia and teaches at George Mason University. Find out more at emilytuszynska.com.

Maggie Rue Hess (she/her) is a PhD student living in Knoxville, Tennessee, with her partner and their crusty white dog. She serves as Poetry Co-Editor for Grist: A Journal of the Literary Arts. Her work has appeared in Rattle, Connecticut River Review, SWWIM, and other publications; her debut chapbook, The Bones That Map Us, was published by Belle Point Press in 2024. Maggie likes to share baked goods with friends and can be found on Instagram as @maggierue_.


Sundress Reads: Review of Your Name Is a Poem

Sundress Reads logo featuring a black and white outlined sheep sitting on a stool, wearing spectacles, reading a book, and holding a cup of tea.
Cover of Your Name Is a Poem, featuring a mother and two children standing at the base of a large mossy tree, playfully examining it together.

Right from the first page of Roseanne Freed’s Your Name Is a Poem (Picture Show Press, 2024), the theme of motherhood takes over the page, as does the importance of names. This poetry collection is written from the point of view of a parent and the grief process of losing their child to cancer. Freed captures the full arc of motherhood, from the joy of naming a child to the ache of loving and letting go. Centered around a daughter named Mahalia, the poems explores motherly devotion, identity, sibling relationships, and family resilience. Throughout these poems, we readers see the mother trying to grasp any piece of her daughter in all of the memories that she has with her, starting from childbirth and as she grew older. 

The first poem, also the title poem, gives readers a first glimpse of the daughter and the power that the name Mahalia holds for the Freed: “Before you were born, / I knew you were someone special / and needed a unique name; / there are too many girls called / Jennifer, Jessica, or Jane” (Freed 1). As we continue to read, the poem “Our Time Together, Too Short” reads like a lyrical biography, tracing Mahalia’s growth from a baby to a selfless adult. Mahalia’s choice to bike to chemotherapy appointments shows readers her strength and values. The final line, “I loved her even when I didn’t love her” (Freed 5), encapsulates the various elements of parenting: unconditional love, complex emotions, and the pain of watching a child suffer. Freed includes bits of her memories with her daughter right from the moment she gave birth:

“My sweet Mahalia, born after two days labor

with all those lucky sevens—

17/7/78 at 7:07 pm weighing 7 lbs. 7 oz

the baby who grew fat and healthy

nursing at my breast for a whole year,

the one-year-old

who crawled into the fridge

to get at the pickles and olives,

but didn’t care for cake, or candy…” (Freed 4)

From these memories that the speaker decides to share with us, we learn about Mahalia’s experiences through the mother’s lens, the emotions she goes through and how she must keep herself together for her daughter’s sake. 

Different from the previous poems, “A Fearful Thing” shifts the voice to second person, as if Freed is speaking directly to her daughter. In doing so, Freed uses “you” to capture the last conversation that mother and daughter had together before Mahalia passes. Food tends to be a source of comfort during times of grief and struggle. The mother is holding onto this last moment by using a bowl of lentil soup, a dish that now holds such deep meaning. The first stanza of the poem illustrates the warmness of food and how it brings this family together as the speaker says, “A pot of my lentil soup, / our staple meal through the Canadian / winters of your childhood” (Freed 10). In the last stanzas of this poem, Freed writes:

“I sent you a text:

We’re eating soup in your bowls.

Mine has pink hearts.

You replied immediately.

I miss eating.

That was your last message to me.

You died the next day.” (Freed 11)

The poetic voice is that of someone who has loved deeply and is now left with the unbearable silence after goodbye. A theme that stuck out to me in this poem is the simplicity of soup. Freed begins “A Fearful Thing” with the line, “Soup, I thought…” (10). This leap from diagnosis to the feeling of home, thinking of soup, encapsulates a mother’s instinct to comfort, nourish, and do something. The lentil soup, which is a staple from childhood, becomes a symbol of continuity, maternal love, and later, unspoken resentment. 

In Your Name Is a Poem, we see a pain that the daughter projects onto her mother through anger. In the poem, “A Week After She Left Us My Therapist Told Me,” the mother seeks help to grieve through her daughter’s loss, but still her daughter’s pain and range from her battle of cancer still finds ways to show up in this grieving process. This poem is shorter compared to the other ones but holds a lot of power. The poem’s length directly mirrors the emotional state of the speaker: raw, constrained, and filled with unresolved tension, each word having weight. The mother/speaker finds it difficult to experience the emotions that she has as she mentions: “If I allow myself to weep, / I hear her— // Stop making it about you” (Freed 18). Since Freed decides to add dialogue, reflecting something Mahalia might have said, the choice of words mirror an upset tone that her daughter would have expressed. Her voice echoes in this poem; even if it’s only projected through Freed, it’s now embedded so deeply that she controls her own grief.

Your Name is a Poem is touching, captivating and filled with different phases of emotions. Freed shares vulnerable moments with the reader during and after her daughter’s battle with cancer. Within this collection, we get a glimpse of what her family went through; we still feel Freed’s intense reality across 35 pages of poetry.

Your Name Is a Poem is available from Picture Show Press


Angela has dark wavy/curly hair. She wears a black top and red lipstick.

Angela Çene is a poet, raised Massachusetts by two Albanian Immigrants. She enjoys writing about the body, & how it relates to the world & our experiences. After earning her Bachelors in Writing, Literature & Publishing from Emerson College, she is currently preparing to apply to law schools. Angela enjoys traveling & finding new restaurants.