Notes From the Hanged Woman

0

Face it, we’re wind
From womb to the blue prom.

Remember me licking
Cream off your belly?

I swing soft breasts
Over the bones of the forgotten.

Creation and death
Harbor in beds.

Can’t recall why I hate you
Yet want to keep the investment.

I take my wrinkles to bed,
Hoping to dream young.

Cold tea on the nightstand.
Cat between my legs.

Listen for the cracked dawn.
The riot is closing in.

Kirby Wright attended CU during the 1970s, and his favorite haunt was the Dark Horse.

LEAVE A REPLY

Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here