Work in Progress for Amanda-Gaye’s new collection “Dialogue on New Landscapes”
Tobacco- burnt, smells like rotting,
wise logs, nails stained. Teeth bluing at the gum line.
Many rings, many wives! This old pine bends and sloughs.
Oh, a fire here:
this is a bad year for bark-bound parasites. Lush and burst
the pillows which close over my boyish heart—
“How are your hearts?” She asked
“I never cared for pink or yellow, but I am enough of a girl” I replied
A few days later, I realize while pissing at work that if I drink enough
coffee, I still smell like you—
one year later.