by Tianna G. Hansen your ribs are bare on your chest cavitywhere I imagine your heart was homed is that what the vultures consumed first?the vital organ that once pumped blood through your leaping body, long legs kickup in joy, in life. you must not have seen that death machine hurtling toward youbefore it was too late, and you became Read More
Tag: death
At the grave of your death, I smile
by Elisabeth Horan For why not; God’s been joking with us All the while; He whispers placation In our ears, plants lust for the sinner’s Alcoholic slide, leaves dust where a Mother, her child, she should find. My loss, and melancholy, were it not For our friendship, would be funny, Really, I laugh at the nose of death – Pointy Read More
Loralie Was Death
by Adam Lock For more than twenty years, the only time Loralie had sex was when someone died. Like when Sheila, an old school friend, was hit by a motorbike. She invented the death of a second cousin to test her theory; Arthur consoled her and they made love. The sex noises from next door begin at ten o’clock. They’re Read More
Masters
by Gale Acuff When I can’t fall asleep I think about my dog, Caesar, run over long ago – thirty-two years it’s been: I spend the night at a friend’s house. My father picks me up next day, and, halfway home, at a yield sign, where Post Oak Tritt runs into Sandy Plains, Son, your dog was hit by a Read More