June - Poem 24
Dress Code / Kristina Byas
Girl,
smile.
Be sweet instead of bitter,
easier to swallow.
Because if they choke,
we’re dead.
Psalm of Pleasure / Shavahn Dorris-Jefferson
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. 2 He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he
leadeth me beside the still waters. 3 He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of
righteousness for his name's sake. 4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with
oil; my cup runneth over. 6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life:and
I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.
What Dredges When Listening to YUNGBLUD’s “love song” / Jess Tønseth Lee Gleason
Slam into my heart with secrets –
you’re screaming bloodily out anyway –
we’ve both kept them too long.
Exchanging hunger for love, was routine,
but sky-fell out of truth and now must
slam into my heart. With secrets,
I whisper over a cauldron of my body
I didn’t deserve the harsh-love.
We’ve both kept them too long,
this internal bruising, we’re just committing
our weirdest bodies to fix this wild
slam. Into my heart, with secrets,
I nurtured whatever love would grow,
It never was for myself. Just memories
we’ve both kept. Them too long
screaming we’re not good enough, never
good-enoughs. Maybe I won’t listen.
We’ve kept them too long,
slam into my heart without secrets.
Angel Sonnet 8 / Shane Moran
He saw nothing but the crown of her face—a halo
as he woke her. His wife away, she brushed her teeth with him.
He sits on the toilet giving her directions
on how to wash her body. After she shouts
I’m done, he has her jump from the tub
into her towel and he lifts her up into his arms.
He tries to do her hair like mommy does it,
but she will have to be satisfied with a ponytail.
He tells her in the car line, not to let any boys
pick on her. And she nods, running out the car
slamming the door behind her. Her Abby Cadabby
backpack bouncing on her shoulders.
──────────────────
8. stars
get tangled
in her
hair, comb them out for dinner
Museum / Jingyu Li
crowds trace
one man’s feeling
through empty
halls and
silent rooms, can
walls hold time
in place?
Seasonal Swarm / Stefanie Zito
The seasonal swarm of winged ants were
eerily illumined by the glow of our chunky television
dispersing soon after arrival.
I sat disquieted on our muted carpet
my back to our family sofa
watching in anticipation
with my antenna up.
Climbing onto the couch,
clutching cushions softly
weeping into the orange plaid
forecasting my own flight.
I’m lifted and carried off
to our next house for a season.
The couch didn’t meet us there.
