“becomes a man
and that man becomes a magician
as if to take control of his transformation
He cuts a woman in half
with a phony saw that curls
like a question mark
Is this how we become less he asks
as her waist widens to a breath-filled
-Read the entire poem at Hermeneutic Chaos.
“The glazed night sky torques and writhes and buckles
over Lake Ella. We’re holding hands, sometimes
our wedding rings make an ugly clack.
It’s hurricane season. We like to think we’re safe
this far north of the gulf, though the air
is choked with salt…
…We cannot see the stars
because we hold them in our mouths—
a kind of sacrament…”
Read the entire poem at Hermeneutic Chaos.