Samuel Hovda


After sex        you said

I fell back        into male,
tiredness, no longer wanting
to submit. Two years

you tried to love         this me. I’m
gorgeous          when no one

looks. Touch me         in silk 

and care. Spider eats her mate. I devour
me, corpse and grave. Bride
and the father

giving her away. I echoes. I falls
into mouth, skin          chapped, so red
I might             be morning.




SAMUEL HOVDA was born and raised in rural Minnesota. He now attends the MA program in Creative Writing at the University of Wisconsin–Eau Claire. His poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Nashville Review, Red Paint Hill, Tinderbox Poetry Journal, and Word Riot, among others. You can find him at and on Twitter @SamuelHovda.