the air evacuates the room
like a chest cavity
crushed by gravity
i could not breathe
even if i wanted to
when my mouth opens
everything is stolen from me
am i the heart
trapped in collapsing ribs
or the escaping hiss of oxygen
——
floating and leaving no trace
the air evacuates the room
like a chest cavity
crushed by gravity
i could not breathe
even if i wanted to
when my mouth opens
everything is stolen from me
am i the heart
trapped in collapsing ribs
or the escaping hiss of oxygen
——
for a sudden insight
i want to thank the asshat
who spaced out at the intersection
until i flashed my high beams
–saw it twinkle
–like a lightning bolt
–out of zeus’ clenched fist
–in his rearview
and he decided it was okay
to turn right onto the
empty street
and then i had to follow him for
two miles
–not stalking
–we were both headed for the freeway
he signaled
to get on the northbound
and then changed his mind
long past the p.o.n.r.
and swerved back into traffic
so i could follow him
onto the southbound
and my god
i realized that the only
way hell
would work is if you had no
idea you were there
because if you knew that shit
was going to just keep going on
for fucking literally ever
you would just refuse to cooperate
and curl up into a ball
and sisyphus could roll you
up the damn hill because why not
but what would the point of that be
as either a deterrent
or a punishment
if you didn’t even know you were
being punished
you wouldn’t even develop
stockholm syndrome and that would
mean god is just a dick
and how can we tell
that’s not what we’ve got
on our hands here anyway

i ache for your milky skin
less dress
please
raw and pink
together we shine
we must worship
above and below
i dreamed once
that my parents
[both dead]
were alive again
and reconciled
and living in a
large house
even the
dream me knew
this fiction
poorly written
and all i wanted
was to
wake up
there was no
longing for home
just the need
to get away
from the lie
of it all
there was a trick
when i was a kid
a needle in the bottom
of an egg and you could
break the yolk
and blow out the contents
left with an empty shell
i wonder who held the needle
and how long did it take
to evacuate my yolk
i stare at the screen
my eyes closing
sleepy but tired
is not the state
i have achieved
my teeth ache, feel hollow
every footstep
every ringing phone
sends vibrations
along the floor
up through my feet
right into those last
nerves still active
in my caveman jaw
if one more person says
not bad for a monday
i might just
need to see the dentist
with my mouth full of shards
and the taste of pennies
We’ve got another great poem from Pleasant Street from Are You Thrilled. Check it out along with the rest of this month’s offerings right here.
You should also go check out her site. Lots of good stuff there.
my lust is no longer
a trickle
and i feel you against
my palms
straining against/with me
i’m a goddamned train
that refuses to
arrive on time
the schedule is trash
fit to line
bird cages
if we were made of paper
then getting close to me
would cause us both
to burst into flames
ashes are good
there once was a writer from cal
who thought he was quite rational
what he didn’t perceive
would slip right through the sieve
of his neurons in a battle royale
turning the flashlight
pointing up
into the tree
the white beam
punches me in the nose
suddenly i smell
the oils of the needles
feel the resinous pine
sap sticky on my fingers
a small green insect
dances into the light
caught in the beam
as if in amber
still except for the furious
motion of its cellophane wings
that’s the problem with
temptation i think
shining a light
where your eyes
aren’t accustomed to the
darkness
what you catch there
may be taught
to fly into a flame
——
for
as everything turns grey
writing prompts by J.R.Rogue and Kat Savage
8. The Problem With Temptation