Of Trenches and Stones

by | May 9, 2011 | Blog, My Poems

This poem needs some serious work —

Of Trenches and Stones

Believing him is the easy part

when love begins to taste
like blood
and water.


ically: she wastes away on a cloud
of opium and
small metallic wings.

You can taste
the flour
in the bread –

smell the pecans
where there are only

(the eyes
in the garbage)

and you wonder what it would be like

to have been
a woman
like her

with marks on her skin
that are natural,
that smell of

in her hair.

are wasting away
on a cloud
of elixir

and diamonds

and yet you love him anyway –

far off in a barn
that floats on the ocean
of a desert plain.