Anti-Heroin Chic
  • Home
  • About
  • Blog
  • Music
  • Art
  • Comedy
  • About Our Contributors
  • Masthead
  • Issues
  • About our contributors - 2019
  • About Our Contributors - 2020
  • About Our Contributors - 2021
  • Home
  • About
  • Blog
  • Music
  • Art
  • Comedy
  • About Our Contributors
  • Masthead
  • Issues
  • About our contributors - 2019
  • About Our Contributors - 2020
  • About Our Contributors - 2021
Search by typing & pressing enter

YOUR CART

​

1/28/2017

Three Poems by Kirby Wright

Picture



Notes From the Hanged Woman

Face it, we are wind
From womb to the blue prom.
 
Remember me licking
Cream off your belly?
 
Creation and death
Harbor in beds.
 
I forget why I hate you
Yet want to keep my investment.
 
I take my wrinkles to bed,
Hoping to dream young.
 
Cold tea on nightstand.
Cat camped between my legs.
 
Listen for the cracked dawn.
The riot is close.






I Found You
            in memory of Laurie

I found you in the obits.

We held hands during the 70s.
My father drove us to the concert.
We were destined to marry.
 
We held hands during the 70s.
Sorry I was late for the party.
We were destined to marry.
I hated you for wanting that singer.
 
Sorry I was late for the party.
Notes from our song play in my head.
I hated you for wanting that singer.
You wore tight white cords.
 
Notes from our song play in my head.
My father drove us to the concert.
You wore tight white cords.
I found you in the obits.
 





The End of Art

The wooden bench painted gray warms in morning sun. The exhibition is over, its artists shuffling sculptures and paintings in and out
of the burnt yellow museum as thick as a Russian wrestler. They balance blood-and-sweat creations on defeated walks over courtyard cobbles. Display time has died. The aborted babies are packed away in trunks, strapped to roofs, and buckled into seats. The artists drive off into wind that rustles the reeds in the Baltic shallows. The snow’s on its way.






Bio: Kirby Wright's first play was performed at the Secret Theatre's 2016 One Act Festival in New York.
Nikki Wilkinson
1/28/2017 08:34:18 am

What an intro to The Year of the Fire Rooster. If this is any indication how 2017 will go, hang on to your hats. What an incredible mash of art and words, kudos to the writer and to the artist and to this publisher!

Gordon Nolan
2/7/2017 04:11:28 pm

If this doesn't give MILO cause to pause I don't know what will. Bravo on some fine lines.


Comments are closed.

    Author

    Write something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview.

    Archives

    December 2024
    November 2024
    August 2024
    July 2024
    April 2024
    March 2024
    December 2023
    November 2023
    October 2023
    September 2023
    August 2023
    July 2023
    June 2023
    March 2023
    December 2022
    October 2022
    July 2022
    June 2022
    May 2022
    April 2022
    January 2022
    December 2021
    November 2021
    September 2021
    August 2021
    July 2021
    May 2021
    April 2021
    March 2021
    February 2021
    January 2021
    December 2020
    November 2020
    October 2020
    September 2020
    August 2020
    June 2020
    May 2020
    April 2020
    March 2020
    February 2020
    December 2019
    November 2019
    October 2019
    August 2019
    May 2019
    April 2019
    March 2019
    February 2019
    January 2019
    December 2018
    November 2018
    October 2018
    September 2018
    August 2018
    July 2018
    June 2018
    May 2018
    April 2018
    March 2018
    February 2018
    January 2018
    December 2017
    November 2017
    October 2017
    September 2017
    August 2017
    July 2017
    June 2017
    May 2017
    April 2017
    March 2017
    February 2017
    January 2017
    December 2016
    November 2016
    October 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016

    Categories

    All

    RSS Feed

Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.