Poetry

Ode to a Tooth (#14)

IMG_6354

I’m sorry you’re dead.

I had braces when I was 17, too old
for that childish smile, I thought-
we waited so long because
my mother said my teeth would “straighten themselves out, probably”;
they did not. Continue reading “Ode to a Tooth (#14)”

Advertisements
Poetry

Do Nothing, Wait Two Weeks (Villanelle)

The art of dying isn’t hard to master-
simply remember to do nothing at all,
and watch the world fall into quiet disaster.

To sleep is to urge the world to end faster,
inviting the snakes to climb over the wall;
the art of dying isn’t hard to master.

Build your walls with crumbling plaster,
burn the bread and poison your hall,
and watch the world fall into quiet disaster
Continue reading “Do Nothing, Wait Two Weeks (Villanelle)”