Lotus
It doesn’t matter how old the wound is; the mere mention of him makes my mood shift. “Let the past be the past,” they claim. I am. “What’s your problem?” I have none.
Stories Poems Essays
Someone to Watch My Back
Our mother had a tattoo. We didn’t see it until we washed her before the undertaker came. It was two tattoos, in truth. Two brown dots, one above her right breast, one below.
Austin Kelly – Candid and Authentic Poems
Austin Kelly – Coke and Whiskey, and Grand Delusions of Winter – You kept me company like the other cheerleaders couldn’t, from park to hotel, ride to store…
For David
I write this to remember, David. I need something more fluid than a photograph, something that comprehends more of you…”
The poem was still pulsing…
Out I could not venture | Because it was an ungodly hour | The hour of sirens and vagabonds. | In the morning | The poem was still pulsing…
We’re here, now.
Two powerful poems by Reinekke Lengelle: “People ask me how I’m doing, and I say, good, he’s still here. He’s here now. We’re here, now.”
The Window
The boy pulls his chair up to the window. He does this every Wednesday night to watch the woman in the pink towel in the apartment across the tiny alley.
The Needles
I relax my hands and remember that, when we work together, we know what to do. They guide me to the right place without fail, and slip in easily with a sigh.
Gelato and Frost
It is a sweltering night the first time I am unfaithful. One of those late July nights where the city clings to you. Hollywood is on fire.