-
One January
You kissed me once, in a bar before you played I drank the whiskey from your breath and your hand crept up a little higher than it should have in such polite and refined company and I remembered then why I don’t drink rum and why I do And I watched the cheap girls watching…
-
On Waking Early
In this time of tiny creatures hands like pale spider legs trapped in amber, I find my breath is not my own, my melted skin has fused with his and there is one cell screaming for another every inch the sun breaks in he holds on tighter “mine,” he says muddy-voiced with sleep A year…
-
Burial
I’ve held in my hands a thousand pretty deities and all the ugly ones Turned them over, inspected them for authenticity crushed their life out, saved my breath for my own resuscitation Buried them under mounds of ash from old deposit slips and torn-off clothing (the buttons, when they burn are worn out tires) and…
-
December 2013
I found this hiding in a corner (dark and damaged) where I left it to stay safe. The sunlight ripped my limbs off trampled on my fingers, nerves still raging blinded me through shuttered lids burned my eyes through lashes melted off like ice Stripped my voice and left me silent, hearing nothing but the…
-
Mannequins.
All these catastrophic mannequins decked out in their despair, cheap plastic mock porcelain limbs bent, paint skin cracked, lacquer smiles chapped and festering at the corners, vacant eyes trapped under wondering brows, smooth neuter breasts and balls bared under torn clothing peering out of spit-slick windows, greasy with the residue of the tossed out dreams…
-
Roadkill Dinner Theatre
It might not stop raining for a while. We might be stuck in here, with the clouds out there and the thunder scaring off all the animals except the crows, calmly picking up the flat remains of possums in the street We might be stuck in here together watching roadkill dinner theatre till night. We…
-
Watch.
You gather deaths collect them, fragile things put on display for all the world behind sheltered, break-resistant glass –see how big my compassion is? my heart is broken, so sad– little heroes, dripping acid tears on the linoleum eating through to the dungeon below. Your sorrow smells of mothballs and camphor and uncooked meat left…
-
Scavenge.
When fragile blades split our fingers wide sliced the skin of our shattered chests in two, left us pale and eviscerated the sun crawled in and baked us dry the scavengers came- gave life into our bones and hearts and entrails feasted long and slow on ropy veins. And who we were bled out when…
-
October 31 1991
The next day you could see where she had come out of herself dark against the black asphalt. I saw her sometimes, behind sleeping eyes dark curls bouncing head thrown back laughing whole with all of her blood inside of her. I saw him too, crouched down, cowering, shivering blade held high and with all…
-
Broke Down.
The numbers on the clock run themselves up like debt hold us captive in the same way trying to pay back what we’ve borrowed interest without long-term interest. On the side of the road, on the curb, hood up, broken down flashing lights behind and a reassuring promise to stick around, I pondered the contents…
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
April Fox 