Wednesday, March 19, 2014
By A.J. Huffman I am planting child-like seeds, tiny beliefs in escape. Rooted misunderstanding, alluring as a cotton candy cottage. I am drawn foolishly to the proffered sweetness. Choking on the danger signs and bile- inducing aftermath. The oven, my force-fed coffin, is full and fueled by ash. I search for signs of what has burned before. Discover both my trail and hope, consumed. A.J. Huffman has published six solo chapbooks and one joint chapbook through various small presses. She is a Pushcart Prize nominee, and the winner of the 2012 Promise of Light Haiku Contest. Her poetry, fiction, and haiku have appeared in hundreds of national and international journals, including Labletter, The James Dickey Review, Bone Orchard, EgoPHobia, Kritya, and Offerta Speciale, in which her work appeared in both English and Italian translation. She is also the founding editor of Kind of a Hurricane Press.