A Journal

"I'm going to come back to West Virginia when this is over. There's something ancient and deeply-rooted in my soul. I like to think that I have left my ghost up one of those hollows, and I'll never really be able to leave for good until I find it. And I don't want to look for it, because I might find it and have to leave".----Breece D'J Pancake, in a letter to his mother. 

Rebecca Teich


Begging Blue


The moment of inheritance. On my hands and knees I hex the big bang, the making of a molten

ocean that quakes below my feet. By now everything looks frosted and still from afar. As if this

is the calm, yet the veins continue to bleed and branch. Droplets jump across the map. From

birth the burn is slow, the doctor cooed, “From what river did you flow?” The crackle of baby’s

blue fire muffled the answer so they gave us each a white wrap, like a bandage or a wedding

dress. Never mind the specifics, the casing was too taught and the seam ripped right down the

middle. My innards spilled out their royal blue gore. How it creeps out my body, how it slithers

across the floor. Who once told me that there never was a bag to hold the cat, much less from

which it could be let out? But now, just sway with me, darling. Take a load off, our heels and

waists cracked and cobalt from endless nights of rehearsals before and before and before.


My favorite souvenir is filled marginalia. I once found a book of poetry from the 1930s in a used bookstore in Michigan with an entire personal letter bordering several of the poems. 


Rebecca Teich studies English at Columbia University. Her writing, both creative and expository, has been featured in BigThink, Crab Fat Literary Magazine, the Advocate, Gambling The Aisle, and 4x4. She is the co-Editor-in-Chief for the Columbia Journal of Literary Criticism and works as an assistant instructor for children's writing workshops.