poem for a powder keg

by Lindsay Reamer

heart meets throat

at the corner of self doubt

and her perfect hair

tremble at the thought

that truth only exists

when truly spoken of

or heard whispered

or read in your back alley

text messages

i don’t claim sainthood

just the desire

to cat scratch at the

flesh of reality

to know if the one

you feed me is

some kind of

mind construction site

hard hat only zone

when debris falls

it will fall

as heavy as a bathtub

full of all the wine we shared

notes of cherry and cinnamon

blackberry and citrus

tongue cranes its neck

to taste

but its just poison

drain the tub

pull the plug

body shivering from

the nakedness of it all

i have become a

hairless creature

with an affinity

for self reassuring

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Featured in Basement Babes, Issue 15