Question

Question
got down from the hood of the car
she was due in Australia
gold dust smearing her skin
Question
they said
the light is shit
let’s try this one more time
the glassy hour that
flashes high on a woman’s back
Question
her voice
a thick scar a daguerreotype
it can’t get any better
than it is, was
ever

This entry was posted in Literary, National Poetry Month, Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *