Hayli May Cox is a PhD Candidate studying English/Creative Writing and Women's and Gender Studies at The University of Missouri, though she's really a Michigander. She currently serves as Editorial and Publicity Assistant for Persea Books as well as Nonfiction editor at Doubleback Review. In her free time Hayli paints, builds with Lego, critter watches, and hikes around with a backpack full of field guides.

You are at a frat party in Michigan—your first and only. Your cousin invited you to see the snow sculptures the houses erect every winter, mythical beasts glistening under clear February sky.

I Should Have Left Him Then: A Mad Lib

Mom’s eyes are on the ultrasound as she inserts the catheter into my cervix. Her latex gloves are purple and make her hand feel less cold against my knee. I turned twenty-eight today, and she thinks I’m ready.

The Evelyns

Jailbait: A Geometric Proof

It is more than vandalism when men pour poison over the roots of trees, a maple greying to make room for Topless Topless Next Exit or Free WiFi, her withered branches crumbling out of the way of a billboard.

Vandals

Sometimes, instead of borders, I prefer to think of this landscape in terms of growing zones—those color-coded spaces on the back of a seed packet. What grows where and when to sow it.

This, Here

I wrote down variations associated with increased depression and anxiety, though I’d been diagnosed as a little girl. I mapped myself, jotting lists and locations onto paper and connecting bits of chromosome with arrows in blue ink. 

Micro Love

I remember staring up at wallpaper borders, a whole room encircled by alphabet so vast I was sure I’d never remember all of it, writing L & R on my hands before the pledge of allegiance so I knew which to hold over my chest. 

The water was warmer than usual, and she was surprised it didn’t sting her in whatever place the blood was leaving her body. Beneath the moon’s corona, Mavis could see a swirling pinkness drag out with the foam between her legs.

Menarche

Tithes

I wanted proof of a symbiosis that gave me purpose, not a pest to be feared, but an entire population of tiny animals that have only weeks to live their lifetime and lay their eggs around eyes that will never see them.

Ants and Lashes

Bright Young Girl

My mother feared the plague, feared long tails and large testicles. I'd send pictures to her, proud of my new-adopted friends.

The Martyrs

Wet paint wrinkles up thin pages like the skin of an aging woman. A quick stroke of coral forms a sagging smile. Form the strong cheekbones and knowing eyes and you have Marilee, a God-fearing woman with an opinion a little too loud. 

Selected work