Last Exotic Petting Zoo

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The Last Exotic Petting Zoo is Jessica Tyner's debut poetry anthology comprised of twelve years of writing. A series of epochs, the reader is led down a spectrum of fragments in time saturated with loss, love and hope. Spanning several countries and facets of relationships, Jessica delves into the underbelly of familial strife and awakenings from a childhood with bi-racial parents to the loss of her father. Featuring glimpses into the reality of the relationship with the self, from infatuation to despite, key pieces dig in deep to the most incestuous relationship everyone has. Each piece segues seamlessly to the next, a love story told piece by piece until they become one unstoppable force-just as such stories are meant to be and always have been. AUTHORJessica Tyner, born and raised in Oregon is a member of the Cherokee Nation, a Pushcart Prize nominee and a graduate of the Ooligan Press program. Ms. Tyner received her master's degree in Writing from Portland State University, having completed the second year of the program, as an intern with the Fulbright Commission in London, England. An extensive traveler, she has lived in England, South Korea and Costa Rica and has had her poetry published around the world. She's the founder of The Jessica Tyner Scholarship Fund, an annual gift for graduate students with a Native American connection who are pursuing an advanced degree in writing or a related field. BOOK EXCERPTPASSINGI was twelve before I realized my father wasn't white, until then I thought nothingof his clay colored skin, eyes drippinglike honey or ropes of black licorice hairsnaking alive and furious down his back.My breasts sprung early, hips splayedwide as an overeager invitationwith bones pushing unforgivingagainst my own skin, pale and quietas the illness. You took me to Radio Shack, your syrupy southern drawl wrapping like a shy giftaround the simple words, My wife put something on hold, and the young clerk, not a decade older than me, looked at both of us with blatant disgust, loathing and a shot of envyeven I could sniff out, like a dogor a wild thing.Is this your wife? he asked, and my chestwas in a painful awakening of an instantfreakishly large, my hipsunable to slam shut, and youtoo stunned to be ashamed or angered just whispered, That's my daughter before walking out, the snakes gone still, but for the years I'm too sorry to take back, the years until the cancer sucked you dry, I felt it for both of us, felt it in my thighs built like a horseand my lips too ripe for a child, in every year after labor heavy yearI refused to be seen with you, I'm so sorrythat I saw you gut punched and ugly as a man.