by Tammy Greenwood
She stood behind
Starbucks along
the dry riverbed
pouring grey water
from the crumpled
water bottle over her
pink hair, still able
to get a small bit of
suds from the
sliver of soap.
Cautiously passing
the man with matted
locks, berating his
audience of stickers
on the dumpster,
she holds her pride
close as she feels
it vanish with each
wash as her shrinking
bar of soap.
Poet and Printmaker, Tammy Greenwood is a Louisiana native residing in California. Her work is heavily influenced by the varying landscape and culture of both states she calls home. Since graduating from California State University, San Bernardino, she continues her studies while working on her upcoming book of poetry. Her work appears in or is forthcoming in Rust & Moth, Orange Blossom Review, San Pedro River Review, Under the Radar, California Quarterly, Journal of Undiscovered Poets and elsewhere.
Emerge Literary Journal 