expedition by Julie Allyn Johnson

shopping for toothpicks
at The Frog Legs Superstore 
on East 79th St. 
my acne-ravaged shoulder blades 
flat against a wall
stocked with wi-fi juicers
air pots
panini grills 
& other kitchen ephemera
I’m reminded 
of stargazing in the Himalayas

or rather 
an inane desire 
to do so

someday.  

but what do I know 
of dreamers lost 
to the Hillary Step

bottomless crevasses

or dearth of oxygen  
in the icy glens of Nepal?



Julie Allyn Johnson, a sawyer's daughter – the eldest of six girls - from the American Midwest, loves long solo walks in the woods. She digs Halloween, photography, gravel-travel, art, poetry and haiku, reading and hiking in the Rocky Mountains.  Her current obsession is tackling the rough and tumble sport of quilting and the accumulation of fabric. Julie prefers black licorice over red, cigarette-length Tootsie Rolls and Hot Tamales, practically the perfect candy.  Her poetry can be found in various journals including Lyrical Iowa, The Briar Cliff Review, Phantom Kangaroo, The Disappointed Housewife,  Anti-Heroin Chic, Coffin Bell, Typehouse Literary Magazine, Better Than Starbucks and Chestnut Review.