top of page

"What It Was Like" by Maria Dylan Himmelman



You may never stop asking so I will tell you

We were hunted like prey and forced

to sleep under trees with the snakes

My father was adept with a spear, though

there wasn’t enough game in the world

to sate us, so we ate roots and bugs

while sitting around a sputtering fire

There was a single key that hung from

a string in the sky but no doors




Maria Dylan Himmelman has work appearing or forthcoming in Grist, Antioch Review, Western Humanities Review, New Ohio Review, and DIAGRAM, among others. She lives in New York City.

Recent Posts

See All

Two poems by Kathleen Hellen

city of flaneuse, in crayolas with lines from the Rolling Stones Peach that used to be flesh-colored Indian Red (extinct)—now comes in colors head scarf in magenta, jogger barbie pinked comes dogwalke

"Stop Tagging Me in Photo Albums" by Vicki Liu

My first date’s hobby was going to therapy. The conversation was excellent then I never called him back. Amazing how I once ate a frozen grape and felt like I was tasting god. I’ll never go to a garde

Comments


bottom of page