Fill the cracks so the ants can’t infest.
This is the poison applied for feeding:
urine-yellow icky glue sealing lips
to take home to another body. Sometimes
words stick where I open my mouth–
the crevice between us not letting you in.
I, too, have brought small gifts back
underground thinking them an olive
branch. Each attempt kills one way
or another. Malignant misinterpretations.
I return with this pellet of words.
This killing I never meant to witness.
(originally published in Abstract Magazine, Fall 2017)
(originally published in In-flight Literary Magazine, Fall 2016)
suck in the vacuous space
separating the lines of the
ceiling and the hard cross
of vagary carpet mites –
wave the dueling paintbrushes
until the rims break but ever
so coquettishly whisk
the centipede eyelashes –
twist the crescent mouth to hark
the worthy obeisance of
patriot songs in a way that
conducts mosquito perseverance –
patch the augered suitcase leaking
carrot water but do it so
the bullish cockroach shells
remain intact and walking –
reassure her that the future
is a flowing faucet unhinged
like the music of the Grecian
harmonica in gathered cicadas –
(originally published in Euphemism – Vol. 11, Issue 1)
(originally published in Torrid Literature Journal – Volume XIV, April 2015)
in wet grass.
(initially published in Halcyon Magazine, Fall 2014)