Anatomy of Jellyfish by Leonora Simonovis

So many of them 
scattered by the storm, 
cloudy galaxies 
of azure and crimson 
hues. They trusted
the deceiving lull
of the current, 
and it killed them.
I think of Caracas, 
of the crowd marching 
to the government 
palace, of the serenade 
of bullets that awaits 
them. Groups 
of jellyfish are called 
smacks, but I prefer 
bloom as in a state 
of beauty highlighted 
by the prospect
of an early death. 
I think of the young 
protester, face up, 
matter and light 
imploding 
on his forehead. 
I want to touch 
the jellyfish
but I’ve been 
stung before, 
the welts embedded 
in memory. I long 
to transmute loss 
into understanding 
these liquid bodies,
the burning throb 
of skin on skin,
the power to sting 
without guilt, 
to walk away 
without remorse.


Contributor Notes

Leonora Simonovis is a bilingual poet who grew up near Caracas, Venezuela and currently lives in San Diego, CA where she teaches Latin American literature and creative writing at the University of San Diego. She is a VONA (Voices of Our Nations Arts Foundation) fellow, has an MFA from Antioch University, Los Angeles, and is a contributing editor for Drizzle Review, as well as an Associate Editor for Poets Reading the News for the Spring of 2021. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming from Gargoyle Magazine, Diode Poetry Journal, The Rumpus, Arkansas International, Inverted Syntax, and Tinderbox Poetry Journal, among others. She was recently featured in CIACLA's (Contemporary Irish Arts Center, Los Angeles) 'I Traveled West. Poets on Place and Belonging' and in the University of San Diego series on Revolutionary Womxn. Her poetry manuscript Study of the Raft is the winner of the 2021 Colorado Prize for Poetry and will be published in November.