poetry by andi stout
Family Heirlooms
Working from a pattern she’s designed herself,
a mother sits at her Singer Stylist—Model 538
sewing flowered bell bottoms,
custom fit,
so that her daughter
and her daughter’s best friend
can stand among Mulberry leaves turning
yellow finch mustard and carrot stick orange.
By the side of curvy roads,
their hair teased out
like Alfred Hitchcock scarecrows,
teeth blackened
with chocolate no-bake oatmeal candy,
they’ll smile at passing cars
because it’s the seventies in rural Appalachia
and they’re bored.
Andi Stout is an Appalachian writer and the author of Pushcart Prize nominated, Tiny Horses Don’t Get A Choice. Her work has appeared in Variant Literature, The Aerial Perspective, Something Involving A Mailbox!, Northern Appalachian Review, Fire Poetry, Still: The Journal, Junoesq, Long Leaf Pine, Scissors & Spackle, Connotation Press: An Online Artifact, among others. Andi earned her MFA at West Virginia University and currently lives in Pennsylvania.