Feel my body like an unattended blackness
a portal a kept sake
not meant for keeping settle me remove
the pillows and rupture me
I imagine this boy, the lotion on his hands, pressing
and releasing, and then the kiss—which opened up
every sense in the world. How he, too, could lean in
and start something small.
Composing a march of stilettos,
the pot-bellied men trail girls
who look like me Continue reading
He’s got eyes like wet cement. Sticking Junior is like finding your name in a graveyard.
American sex goddess, innocent
as white bread with trimmed crusts.
That was who I agreed to be.
I wish a bitch would tell me to smile, the arrow of my brow cutting their spleen out.
On my best days, I take my sheer black bra off before the deadbolt slides shut.
Our poetry editor for September and October is Oliver de la Paz, the author of four books: Names Above Houses (SIU Press 2000), Furious Lullaby (SIU Press 2008), Requiem for the Orchard (U. Akron Press 2010), and Post Subject: A Fable (U. Akron Press 2014). With Stacey Lynn Brown he co-edited A Face to Meet the Faces: … Continue reading