Poetry by Kim Backalenick

Cindy Shebley CC




100 Ways to Die


When night bore down like wild horses

you rode its back to dark and distant corners. 

Disappeared into buildings and other places 

you would forget. Tell me months later 

how much you loved the disappearing. 

That world took you. Held you 

under. Forgot your name. Street corners 

edged in broken bottled vacant stares.

Subway station strangers. Drugs you could not name.

Backseat  unlit  knife.

I used to think there were so many ways you might die. 

You only need one.

​


Kim Backalenick has been published in Train River Anthologies, Juste Milieu Zine, Nightingale and Sparrow, and Jaden Magazine. In addition, she is active in her local creative community, participating in readings at galleries, fund raisers, and open mics.



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