Author / J.L. Smith

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Posts by J.L. Smith

I am a writer/political scientist based in Eagle River, Alaska. I hold a BA degree in English/Creative Writing and a MA in International Relations. Best of both worlds, I write everything from naturalistic poetry to Russia and the former Soviet Republics. Recent publications: Academic Nonfiction: The Syrian Dilemma: Moscow's Motives in the Syrian Uprising (2013). ISBN: 9781304283931 Creative Nonfiction: "The Important Things" - Alaska Women Speak - Winter 2015 issue Fiction: How to Eat a Bagel - 50-word Stories - Sept 15, 2015 The Devil and the White Room - Down in the Dirt - July/August 2016 Poetry: "Sara" - Grassroots - Fall 1999 "Femininity" - Cirque - Summer 2015 "Sitting in the Bathroom" - Yellow Chair Review - July 2015 "A Happy Poem" - Eunoia Review - August 2015 "Willow Rebuilds" "Spectators" "Fire Angels" - Alaska Women Speak- Fall 2015 "Dark Clouds Descend Low" - Three Line Poetry - Issue 33 - Sept 2015 "Da!" - Peeking Cat Poetry - 8th issue - Oct 2015 "Three times my baby's stroller passes by" - Eunoia Review - Oct 2015 "Babushka's Samovar", "If I May Speak", and "High Tea and Fancy Things" - Alaska Women Speak - Winter 2015 Issue "Joanna's Child" - Cirque - Winter Solstice issue 2015. "Away with the Bitterness!" - Peeking Cat Poetry - 9th Issue - Dec 2015 "Away with the Bitterness!" - Alaska Shorts (49 Writers blog) - December 22, 2015 "The Reflex", "The Drop Off", and "Crossed Eyes" - Eskimo Pie - Feb 2016 "The Fragments You Carry", "The Fireweed Dies", and "Crabapples" - 13 Chairs - Spring 2016
by J.L. Smith

“Urban Snack” and Yellow Chair Review

I am pleased to announce that my poem “Urban Snack” will be published in Yellow Chair Review‘s June issue.  More details when the issue goes live.  In the meantime, please check out all the good works at Yellow Chair Review.

by J.L. Smith

(Explicit)Throwback Thursday: The Drop Off

Explicit post: Warning! Possible trigger.

This poem was published by Eskimo Pie in February.  Check out the poem and Eskimo Pie too!

 

The Drop Off

Maidenhood aside,

your sex trapped me.

My fresh curls could not

compete with you aged mounds

of flesh I did not desire.

 

The fruity bubble gum should

have told me all:

the sickly melon perfumed

my car, ate at my stomach,

eroding my alliance,

down to a sugary decay of

falsehood and cunning.

 

Thinking nothing of sticky fly traps,

I shared my soda and

youthful dimples.

 

Instead of cookies, you offered love

and, of course, your sex

as the sugar started to saturate,

entrapping me.

 

The friend you left behind —

not the one that offered you a ride,

the one you had in me–

dashed off her fears and turned the key.

 

Sweetly, I spurned your desires,

but with all the sugar everything

turned sour.

 

I dropped off your unfulfilled

desires at your doorstop.

You will come to me again,

but I will not be there.

 

I’ve thrown away all of my candy.