In Poems & Fiction

Candy cigarette trembling in her haunted hand,

adorable secrets loosely locked

in that smiling sin vault,

her giddy little-girl laugh track loops,

like a busy signal when you phone

the emergency room.

 

She’s mine now, all mine.

 

Sweet ghost lounging

beneath the cool avalanche of starched sheets,

she’s naked as a cupcake on death’s island.

This isn’t the first time

I’ve shopped for tombstones

at Toys R Us.

 

Appeared in A Touch of Saccharine Anthology, Kind of a Hurricane Press, 2014

Start typing and press Enter to search