Size / / /

I stand in a cell for suffrage.
I sit, I succumb to sleep.

I am sensible of grasses,
the structure of grasses,
how grasses affect bison,
and therefore, us.

My stomach clamps down
to the size of an egg.
I’m beyond hunger now.

I think about grasses,
study grasses from this cell,
stuffed with suffering for suffrage,
my sisters sighing like grasses.

I imagine someday sorting grasses
in the fields, thinking of this cell
only sometimes, only sporadically,
shakily. The grasses stop me
from becoming despondent.
They save me from despair.



Jessy Randall’s poems and stories have appeared in Strange Horizons, Asimov’s, Nature, and Scientific American. Her most recent book is Mathematics for Ladies: Poems on Women in Science (MIT, 2022). She is a librarian at Colorado College, and her website is http://bit.ly/JessyRandall.
Current Issue
15 Jul 2024

Pelt 
I inherited the molting, which my mother will deny; she’ll insist it’s a thing only women do, each heartbreak withering from the body like a petal.
The Abstract Maker 
a sand trail ever fungible, called to reconcile the syrupy baubles—resplendent pineapple geodes
The Languages of Birds 
Who chose who spoke? Who silenced the sparrow?
Monday: A Botanical Daughter by Noah Medlock 
Wednesday: Stolen Hours and Other Curiosities by Manjula Padmanabhan 
Friday: The Book of Witches edited by Jonathan Strahan 
Issue 8 Jul 2024
Issue 1 Jul 2024
Issue 24 Jun 2024
Issue 17 Jun 2024
Issue 10 Jun 2024
Issue 9 Jun 2024
Issue 3 Jun 2024
Issue 27 May 2024
Issue 20 May 2024
Issue 13 May 2024
Load More