Deer Glint of you twitching two ways at once. Hard bodies of cars growl helplessly, slam to break. Watch for terror your alien eyes stoked and moan through fingers stuttered, lit, too close as temptation fattens under shafts of light. You are most powerful undecided. Limerence, seems there is no setting the gun of relation back down.
Eucalyptus Your head on fire. All day I wonder what to do. Wish I could walk shut until the light is all that enters me but the demand of it is two-fold. The smell rapid. Reflections all summer burned my eyes while I rode home & I read them over like - is there lateness deep enough to dig into? Night with its wide face & I want to smother it. Can’t stand what calls attention like how I locked myself in the bathroom & ignored the smoke delivering tall towers. Did you have any way of learning what was best? The weed grandma left is almost gone now & the tin knows where it came from. I can’t believe the stories. Porcelain poodle coke stash I still have so many questions.
Test Results The old ones seem less real now, like fault combing back for the last cigarette she smoked. There was hardly air left under the awning. But from inside her thoughts rolling off from the top of some bucket already owned by thirst, doubt. The rest came down chattering to drum on us and grudges turned around silly. I read it again. He didn't call. For once, me waiting at the receiver and distance digging in. This guy on the bus today had it right, driving his fists, the windows, until anger swayed me to stand at the peak, his "I want off this thing!" And if I also beat back the oncoming: the things I'd have to say never knowing what I should.
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P. D. Messersmith is a gender-ambivalent artist/poet living in the Pacific Northwest with their cat, Kino. In his spare time, he enjoys taking unplanned walks, reading, and creating.
