Tova Feldmanstern


um·​bil·​i·​cut | \ ˌəm-ˈbi-li-ˈkət

proper noun

  1. a wet place we all come from, east of connecticut and west of umbria.


  1. a condition in which we are disconnected from our source, yet carry a piece of it with us always.

note:  it tickles. right around where the wound occurred, there is a tenderness, a puddle of pleasure.

  1. a condition in which we repeatedly turn blue in the face, get our breath knocked out of us and learn to scream all over again.

note: once it happens on the first day, it happens every day thereafter.

  1. a condition in which we believe we are healed because we can stand up, walk, run, jump—but there is actually a hole in us, right at the center, possible for everyone to see when we wear a tankini.
  1. a former means of connection that is now a channel with which we read the room.

e.g. is it safe? am i hungry? when can we take our clothes off?


  1. to receive messages where once we received sustenance.



Tova Feldmanstern lives on Ohlone lands in the San Francisco Bay Area with her wife and cat and practices clinical social work. Her writing has appeared in print and online journals including Thirty West, Panoply, Deep Wild, Peregrine, Gravitas and The Healing Muse.