July 15, 2016Red Sugar Blue Smoke
My power animal is prehistoric, so far
undiscovered. I wait for its bones
to be found. I’m not hopeful;
it was drawn to bright lights
and may have stood directly under the meteor,
blue head cocked like a microphone. I have
twenty-eight teeth and can’t decide
if I’m a predator. I once killed a story
with tiny cuts, then buried it
under a tree. The guilt fed and sheltered me
for half a winter. My new landlady
is an astrologer/real-estate-agent who
refuses to say if my home can be trusted
with secrets. Her favorite nail polish is
a shade of dark red called ‘Girl Against
The Whole Damn World.’ I wonder
what color says, I left my drink
next to an identical one and now I can’t tell
which is mine? Tomorrow is a blue vein
in the back of your hand. This isn’t a figure
of speech but a fact of nature, like ink. Tomorrow is
also a powerful animal with undetermined markings.
Indeed it’s probably camouflaged somewhere
nearby. All we know for sure is it will be
eight letters long, the last resembling
a pair of fangs.
from #52 - Summer 2016