Emalisa Rose

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that deep clean

‘You gotta get on your
knees,’ she said. “it’s the
only way to get to the grit
and the grime of it all, and
it has to be bleach, nothing
else will suffice.”  I can
still hear her voice as i’m
scrubbing it silly, up to my
elbows, as i hug the linoleum
floor, getting into the groove
and the rhythm, spreading my
legs in contortion positions,
assortments of sponges and
rags, dipped in the hot water
heat in the pail, with her
special solution, filling the
house with that chemical high.

slutting downtown

i’m pissed off again, so
i’m gonna write poems
about you, submit to
some poem magazines
under anonymous and
talk of a wife that went
wild with a whole bunch
of men (but not you.) I’ll

leave open the laptop, let
you peruse it and wonder
who’d ever marry a slut
such as that.


When not writing, Emalisa Rose enjoys crafting. She volunteers in animal rescue.  Living by a beach town, provides much of the inspiration for her work.  Her poems have appeared in Cholla Needles, Open Arts Forum, Eskimo Pie and other journals.