Poems by Victoria McArtor

Photo from Unsplash.com

It’s Not What Mexico Gives

but what it doesn’t take
        that we’ll remember

a woman in a tourist shop
        refills a slushy machine
from a sack of red juice and what spills

sticks to her sandals
        sucking ground like the sound
                of angry C130s
hovering above the beach

we tell ourselves our government’s
        only practicing
                against a sunset
that bleeds into the cradle
        of a tactile landing

she says it’s lucky to buy a lottery ticket
        when red war turns redder
the balls bounce in a cage and hit
        like low level training missions

fear motivates us
to move a little faster

we follow the other ants
        to collect the strawberry’s

                long line of juice


he unhooks a velvet rope
        ushering me into the club
                where a group of dolls
        sit shining on a shelf –

                she is empty
                waiting to be fulfilled

                she is anxious
                ready to leave

their unconcerned faces were never
        meant to agree

                she is lifting a mirror –
                        here I am
                        I am not there

I am leaving on a journey
        which could eventually lead

                away from my body
to show that I do

                still have my head about me


IMG_7937Victoria McArtor holds an MFA, is a former professor for the University of Tulsa, and is co-founder of a poetry and collaborative arts nonprofit, MUSED. McArtor gives her time by serving on the board of directors for the Black Wall Street Arts Gallery and the Oklahoma Center for Poets and Writers. Working primarily in the technology industry, McArtor is the lead creative at Victoria Copied, LLC., a creative copywriting agency based in Southern California. Using what she calls “the poetry of sales,” Victoria helps companies simplify complex ideas and evoke emotion amongst their ideal audience.