Any migration is forced

Poetry by Sara Fitzpatrick Comito

Category: Poetry

Back to the beach

sand angelsAs the days get shorter, I start thinking about going outside again. It’s been hot, hot, hot! One long rain event from as far back as I can remember. It’s a type of reverse hibernation. In the hot, wet summer, I don’t want to be outside. Well, I DO, but I have a hard time with the conditions. My friends up north have started teasing me with photos of apple picking excursions. I love fall! But I love fall in Southwest Florida for different reasons. I get to tease my friends with photos of the beach!

It was a muse for those surfer bands from the 60s, and it’s a muse for me. I wrote a poem about it that I shoved in a drawer for a while. Then it appeared in the most unlikely place – DOGZPLOT! A place I never thought my work would show up because, guess what? I don’t write flash fiction. Not yet, anyway. Not successfully. Maybe someday. Unlikely! But not as unlikely as my work being in DOGZPLOT. My pre-teen son has a better chance of being there! Oh wait, he already was, a few years ago. It was a (religious) classroom paper collage that Peter Schwartz took a liking to. My son isn’t allowed to read the content, but his picture graced the virtual pages of that fine institution of all things flash.
Read the rest of this entry »


Mommy, am I a fantasy writer?

Check off this box under things I never thought would happen: being published in a fantasy/science fiction magazine. As usual, I didn’t arrive at this particular milestone via the most direct manner. I had to address some deeply ingrained prejudices first. Everyone has them and that’s ok. It’s how you acknowledge them and proceed to live a healthy, well rounded life that counts. It’s a lot of work.

When I think about fantasy or scifi, an image such as this comes to mind: Read the rest of this entry »

The blog title? Explain

I was fortunate to have this poem published at Mad Hatter’s Review Blog this past August. It’s kind of crazy, and that’s just what the editors like, so I guess it works. I’ve always been fascinated by diaspora. The word feels good in the mouth when I say it. It’s a bitter concept. Recently, I also had the good fortune of becoming part of the Fictionaut community, and this poem seemed to have been well received. I hope you will enjoy it, along with my future posts. Feel free to comment on anything you’d like. It doesn’t all have to be about poetry, but sometimes poetry seems like all there is.


Any migration is forced

Gravity’s not downward

but a pull between. If
you’re bigger than me,
I’m gonna come to you

just how it works. Don’t
mind the plastic caddy of
Lysols, my multigrain will
replace your white inflammation.

Let’s put some shades over
the bare hanging. I’m not
going to change you I
promise: I’ll wait up.

Any migration is forced.
Diaspora is how I show
I care. Remember: I’m the
one who had to assimilate.

It’s what was best. For you.