1/5/2018 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/
Max
1/5/2018 09:50:59 am
good shit real good shit Comments are closed.
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