The Northville Review
an online literary journal

Devon Miller-Duggan

for Hannah in her ninth month

She stomps villages.
Whole populations scramble around her feet,
screaming, streaming
in any direction they can find where her feet
won’t land.
Bridges bust against her knees.
She guzzles reservoirs,
grabs whole trees and chomps–
leaves and roots and bird’s nests grind between her teeth.
Cars lie squashed like soda cans.
She grinds her itchy scaly back against mountains—
sky scrapers aren’t much use—they just fall down.
Stubby arms barely scratch her nose.
She’s wrong size everywhere she goes.
Every time she growls, cows and sheep run for miles,
grains flatten–crop circles shaped like gobs.
Her belly gorged with roughage and veg
grumbles anyway, clenches like a fist of coal,
drags her forwardforwardforward.
Even if she knew where they were landing
She couldn’t see her feet to tell them where to go.
She hasn’t slept in months.
She’s hungry for the ocean–
needs to find the giant waves
and riderideride.
on the other side,
she’ll beach,
shed this skin, and wake,
discovering herself made all of pearls.

About the author

Devon Miller-Duggan has had poems appear in Rattle, Shenandoah, Margie, Christianity and Literature, The Indiana Review, Harpur Palate, The Hollins Critic. She’s won an Academy of American Poets Prize, a grant and a fellowship from the Delaware Division of the Arts, an editor’s prize in Margie, honorable mention in Rattle. She teaches for the Department of English at the University of Delaware. Her first book, Pinning the Bird to the Wall appeared from Tres Chicas Books in November 2008. Her chapbook of off-kilter poems about angels, Neither Prayer, Nor Bird is forthcoming from Finishing Line Press.