Slither.

I’d watch Mother cut.
Twisting into slices
ever thinner she’d slither
that thin slick of steel, first
slow, then quicker. Carving
the tomatoes upper valleys
into rivers, and I would quiver,
tidal juices pooling round her
pulp like pungent quarters, soft
pip rocked waters, wishing for
the steels cool. Two eyes enticed
by the red of slaughter.








Alexandria Simmons graduated with first class honors BSc from the University of Bristol, U.K. With no formal poetry training she has had her work in print on both sides of the Atlantic, winning her first poetry competition at the tender age of nine. Published by numerous national and international journals including Carillon, Young Woodchester Press, Poetry Rivals and The Poetry Quarterly, Alexandria draws chiefly from the ‘confessional style’. Following her move from the U.K she now resides with her husband in Tennessee from where she is working on her first collection of poems, ‘The Oubliette’, and a book of short stories entitled, 'The Ominous Geometry Of Everything'.