The infinite is no longer Than a slice of sky that slipped, Stealthy, behind the apple of your eye. The universe gifted me with insignificance, And no matter how grateful she made me, I still wanted to peer into your navel. When wind slaps wet palms against pages And tempos twist tear drops, triptychs, and timing belts Into some semblance of meaning, Our well-to-do knowledge cracks the sky-songs like death
Great exercise, walking into your resistance. The dog’s ears blown back like golden sails. The last quarter mile is the hardest. Then, unexpectedly, you cease your assault. For a second, I pretend you’re a conquered foe and that I’m the master of Nature.
You left your mark like a prehistoric cave drawing. Unseen, undiscovered, permanent. A message understood only by the one who created it. You created a masterpiece. Beaten, bruised, bleeding, inanimate. To you. Leaving nothing to remember you by but a stain, faded, never gone. Violence the medium that stenciled you onto me so cruelly. Memories inaccessible but my body, like a cave wall, will never forget. *** Amy Menkhus is a
When all the starlings, robins, jays Have given up and gone to nest, The crows refuse the calling night, Defer the final rest. Over the waiting conifers They improvise an arabesque, A final celebration to The dying fire in the West. Like fighter pilots when flight was new, Over the field they chase and dive, Rise like ash from an unseen fire, Circle like everything alive. The second ending, it’s
My name is Danger Will Bukowski. Is there a story behind this? Why, yes there is. My ghetto fairytale begins in Compton, where my meth-addicted teen parents crashed a county general hospital, high as kites, neither even remotely realizing Tweedle-Dum was actually pregnant. Upon disclosure, they found it hilarious, and while Dum screamed, “Danger! Danger, Will Robinson!” for three hours of back labor, a child was born. “Danger Will Robinson,”
I wake With death in my mouth. Before I wash it out, I start with Ten reasons why I cannot take my own life. One-Suicide is selfish, Especially for you. You help so many people. What would they do Without you? Two-Who else Can make Algebra fun? All your students need you. Three-Who would get friends Out in sun Working dirt into green things? You are the only one. Three-if
