USA Junkyards

rust– my heart’s jigsaw

exhaust– speaking’s black smoke

skid marks– don’t stop

steppes become sycamores

lakes become deserts

lips– sun-dried song and stale reed

saxophone– barren of sound

you– between the dents

the sun– unforgiving


(originally published in Ghost City Review, Autumn 2016)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s