Catching Smoke
A couple of cards, a 4 and a King, lay on the green felt in front of you. You clutch a cup of coffee with your left hand. There’s a stack of casino chips in your right. You're shuffling the chips over and over.
JAKE
A Poetry Found in the Chest of A Dead Soldier
If I keep your poetry, / And I'm killed, / Will I be buried with it?
Questions after you said I died a million times in you
Who sings honeyed dirges for the dead while their warm hands make love with someone else’s warm hands?
In it
Sorrow a monotonous tune, like the weeping of this lonesome cunt. I cry because I am two hours behind his time zone always, and maybe that means I am also two hours behind grieving us always.
Litterbug
Sea otters shivering, succumbing to the cold without the properties of their insulating fur, lifeless paws slipping from each other’s grasp. Dolphins scattered, bursting like smooth grey fireworks away from the foul stench that permeated the water.
Call It What It Is
at fifteen the intake nurse clacked her nails until / social phobia, ED-NOS appeared beside diagnosis
Maybe a Butterfly Will Sit on Us
But every day we also hoped something would change, that our Mortuary House would have dainty laced curtains and a round table in the center draped in white table cloth.