Joana Lutzen McCutcheon is an Australian architect and painter.
She is 97 years old and still adores nature. Joana lives in Daylesford, Victoria, Australia.
Joana Lutzen McCutcheon
Willawaw Journal Spring 2018 Issue 3
Our third issue includes the prompt by Poet Laureate Paulann Petersen and offers a wealth of visual art. The poets are listed in (nearly) alphabetical order with the artwork interspersed:
Cover Art: Leslie Green's "Sunrise," 24 x 30, acrylic on board
Editor's Notes
Page 1: Jude Brigley Elizabeth Cohen Jim Zola Laura Dinovis
Page 2: Katherine Edgren Judith Sander Erric Emerson Vincent Francone Abigail George John Grey
Page 3: Frances Van Wert Marc Janssen Kathy Jederlinich Karen Jones Gary Lark Frances Van Wert Anna Leahy
Page 4: Joana Lutzen McCutcheon Layla Lenhardt Judith Sander Sherri Levine Sue Fagalde Lick Gargi Mehra
Page 5: Leslie Green Megan Munson Paulann Petersen Gail Peck Marjorie Power Frank Rossini
Page 6: Kathy Jederlinich Lauren Scharhag Judy Shepps Battle Jim Zola Penelope Scambly Schott Sheila Sondik
Page 7: Leslie Green Dorothy Swoope Vivian Wagner Frances Van Wert Linda Wimberly Matthew Woodman
Page 8: Back Page with Judith Sander
Layla Lenhardt
Five Stages of Remembrance
I. one minute I didn’t know
you & the next you
were on top of me on
Sara’s back porch, tasting
like flowers and Christmas.
II. when we tore my room apart
looking for your phone, I saw
your father’s anger shine
through your front teeth.
III. I remember lying
to them all & driving
to the beach, drinking
whiskey from the water bottle
we hid in a picnic basket.
IV. sometimes my heart still swells
for that time, fumbling around,
not being able to control
where we were going & not
wanting to
V. because we liked how it felt.
I still get that feeling
when I drive by your parents’ house
I still look for
your bedroom light.
Layla Lenhardt has most recently been published in Peeking Cat Poetry’s Yearly Anthology, Door is A Jar, and the forthcoming Third Wednesday and Muddy River Poetry Review. She is founder and Editor-in-Chief of 1932 Quarterly and she currently resides in Indianapolis with three cats.
Judith Sander
“Devotion to Silence”
Judith Sander‘s “Devotion to Silence” is her response to Terri Thomas’ poem “Silence”. Mixed media collage using papers, oil pastels, pencil and acrylic paint. 18”H x 24”W. She believes a few moments of silence in our noisy worlds is important for our well being.
Sherri Levine
A Kind of Disaster
I’ve known earthquakes in my home
pots being thrown, plates crashing into
one another, drapes closing
in the afternoon.
I’ve felt the boom! boom!
above my bed,
and watched my dolls shake
their heads.
I don’t know what it must have felt like,
afterwards,
what she must have felt.
I never got to see her
exhausted
mess
on
the
floor.
Still
I lay there
waiting
for something to happen,
or change–
for her to come and get me
so I could hold her.
Sherri Levine is an award-winning poet who lives in Oregon and teaches English to adult immigrants and refugees at Portland Community College. Levine’s work has been published in the Timberline Review, the Hartskill Review, VoiceCatcher, and The Sun Magazine. She left New York’s harsh winters for the Pacific Northwest where she walks in the rain without her umbrella.
Sue Fagalde Lick
Widow’s Rags
I’m dressing like a man these days.
Wore out my husband’s flannel shirts,
bought my own in my own size.
I wear them over polo shirts and jeans
with lace-up leather hiking boots.
I let the girl cut my hair so short
there’s nothing to grab anymore.
The back of my neck is shaved. Like his.
Sure, I have breasts, but I hide them now
and yes, I have a fuzzy face. I do.
Without my earrings and my paint,
I could pass for a man, one of those
wrinkled, rugged cowboy types.
Just slap on a Stetson hat and let
my mustache have its way.
I’m turning butch in my old age,
but now I’m wife and husband, too
hauling the wood, cooking the steaks,
fixing the roof, driving the truck.
His clothes fit well and keep me warm.
A dress would feel foolish now,
and who is looking anyway? The dog.
What would you wear in my place?
Smoke Signals
Across the street, gray smoke
puffs out of the chimney,
threads through spruce and alder,
and spreads out, heading west.
The kitchen lights are on,
my neighbor at the sink,
making sandwiches at dawn,
her Lab alert for crumbs.
Over here, I start the fire,
turn on the kitchen lamp,
take my dog outside to pee,
put a kettle on for tea.
My smoke mingles with hers,
my lamp shines in the dark.
I look across the street and wave.
And so begins another day.
Sue Fagalde Lick escaped the Silicon Valley newspaper business, moved to the Oregon coast and earned an MFA from Antioch University Los Angeles. Now she writes poetry, blog posts, and books. Her poems have appeared in Cloudbank, New Letters, Temenos, The American Journal of Poetry, Diode Poetry Journal, and other publications. www.suelick.com.
Gargi Mehra
In The Bowels of Her Birkin
Pink oversized shades
procured
for wearing
at the beach
snug in a red pouch which
is snug in a blue case,
Earphones
for those
moments
between floors
in the elevator
and outside
Lip gloss
to soften
the ashen corpse look
Buff ankle socks
that keep
her feet warm
Wallet,
crammed with cards
notes folded in half
identification marks
Pen
to sign
or
take notes
Small comb
to tame
her wild mane
A folded sanitary
napkin to stem
the flow
of tears
Wet wipes
that scrub out the depression
Gift vouchers
Pamphlets
Cheque book
No photos
No compact
No eyeliner
No letters
No bills
No love
No life
Gargi Mehra is a software professional by day, a writer by night, and a mother at all times. Her work has appeared in numerous literary magazines online and in print. She is currently working on a novel. She blogs at gargimehra.com
