By: Christine A. Brooks
friends
when I die
I hope the crows come &
surround me as they
did tonight as I sat quietly at the
old picnic table under the grand American
yellowwood tree
that grew gloriously either
unaware or uncaring that it
existed out of place
listening to the leaves
unclench
and fall gently
one last dance
one last breath
one last chance to be brilliant
when I die
I hope the crows come
to bear witness to my
last lasts
if only for a moment
before
plucking out my eyes
demons
I tape them to my paneled walls like
grotesque paper dolls
glassy skin & barbed teeth
malignant spirits
bards of failure
—mine
they will not be bound for long though, by
silver tape or wooden gate
so, they unstick themselves
one by one
crawl back into my brain &
set themselves on
fire
Christine A. Brooks is a graduate of Western New England University with her B.A. in Literature and her M.F.A. from Bay Path University in Creative Nonfiction. A series of poems, The Ugly Five, are in the 2018 summer issue of Door Is A Jar Magazine and her poem, The Writer, is in the June, 2018 issue of The Cabinet of Heed Literary Magazine. Three poems, Puff, Sister and Grapes are in the 5th issue of The Mystic Blue Review. Her vignette, Finding God, is in in the December 2018 issue of Riggwelter Press, and her series of vignettes, Small Packages, was named a semifinalist at Gazing Grain Press in August 2018. Her essay, What I Learned from Being Accidentally Celibate for Five Years was recently featured in HuffPost, MSN, Yahoo and Daily Mail UK. Her book of poems, The Cigar Box Poems, is due out in late 2019.
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