Poetry by Carrie Laski

      Naud/ CC



since you asked
 
yes, I will die in a Ford Pinto
if that’s an option
festering life!
ineffective martyrdom!
hours of sitting silent vigils
in my bedroom
for what?
to watch the dark spot on the wall grow day by day?
here I go
swallowing juniper ash for the minerals
or whatever
it’s your fault that I ever felt alive
that one time
(you know which)
but wow wow wow
do these swing tunes pair well with your absence
 



ritual
 
gin, lillet, vodka with a twist
then
back to my best friend’s bed
like no time has passed
tall, black columns
leading up to air conditioned nothing
mysterious workings of the inner ear
and chlorine
(chlorine!)
standing just out of reach of the insistent June
waiting
like I do
wishing
I was the Son of the Tree That Owns Itself
but that’s in Georgia
at the car shop
they asked me where did all the rust come from?
but I didn’t know
I didn’t
know

Bio: Carrie Laski lives in Texas for the time being. Her work has appeared in Peach Mag, Occulum, Maudlin House, Spy Kids Review, tenderness, yea, Philosophical Idiot, and The Pendulum. She loves riding the bus and will do Sum 41 at karaoke any chance she gets. twitter: @heyy_carrie_ann website: https://serialfascinations.com/

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