Category: Poetry

Twenty-Five

The bees did not buzz at your funeral But the sun sounded like static or socks rubbing against carpet My black shoe traced a Star of David in the crackling grass like the one on your coffin and my body…

Denial

When was the last time you felt your baby move? Why are you asking? Please don’t ask that question. We can’t find her heartbeat on the monitor. Keep looking. It’s there. Your baby is gone. You’re wrong. You just missed…

Aphelion

Plotting a definitive route, (Descrying your shine astir) to you; me vs gravity; a peculiar bout. To impress you, could I? The sun… Vitally, I did spin—The most fantastic flight had begun… I was refulgent; I was on my way!…

Ode to My ID

I hope your night was fabulous. I hope your night was grand. Cause you left my pocket. Now I don’t know who I am. —Jessica Coons