Hot Metal Bridge

Current Issue : Number Twenty-Five

The Girl in the Bed


wants a witness, other than that girl in the doorway, lounging, rolling a Tootsie pop around in her mouth, looking through the bed-girl to the pop-up camper in the backyard, wings spread as if for liftoff, exhaling its winter must. A witness to last summer, to her body crammed into the mildewed apex of the wing-bed, the mathematical squares of screen imprinted on her cheek, the hand that moved deliberately across the flannel sleeping bag unzipped to lie flat.  A witness other than that doorway girl rolling her eyes, clicking her lollipop, who rose from the bed-girl’s body and hovered on the aluminum ceiling, refusing to throw even a glance at the figure lying stock-still on the thin mattress, as if she were textile, furry, made for touching.




Erica Bodwell is a poet and attorney from Concord, New Hampshire. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in PANK, Barnstorm, Stone Highway Review, Cobalt, The Orange Room Review, and other fine journals.