March 2019

Poetry Club Critique

by Julie Allyn Johnson

You dared to imply
my cautious tale —
my reluctant confession —
was mere tripe
poetry you categorized as YA
soap opera theatrics
surely nothing
authentic
or heartfelt
or life-constricting.

You knew not how my heart
raced and galloped
during my tentative recitation,
my crimes laid bare for all to hear
proffered for your bemused consumption.

Your genitalia differs from mine.

Perhaps that explains
your lack of empathy
and why you can
never,
ever understand.

About the Author

Recently retired, Julie enjoys photography, baking bread, hiking, biking, traveling with her husband, crochet, playing with her new puppy and reading about writing and poetry. Last summer, when inspiration started to keep her awake at night, poetry ensued. She is the oldest of six girls and grew up surrounded by oak, walnut and other woods native to north central Iowa piled high around the ten-acre backyard out back behind her father’s sawmill. Julie has been writing poetry for a year and a half. She has been published in Lyrical Iowa, Persephone’s Daughters and Typishly. Her writing process is varied. She has journals stashed throughout the house and in the car and always carries a small notebook in her purse. Sometimes she goes weeks and weeks without so much as a journal entry and other times, writes several times a day.