On Midway Island by Jessica Pollard

Dec 21, 2018
the birds snort plastic instead of coke
and collapse on the beach like Tiny Tim when
he tried to become a ukulele & yesterday
Judy Garland – bless her heart – declined to do my laundry
or maybe she reclined further into the earth like a secret
& here I am thinking about all the sidewalks yet to meet my
ungolden spit, all the tired men who have yet to whistle
at me who drop the curb like grapes
isn’t it true that if I bite my nails enough the rest of my
hand will disappear too, so if I keep going
maybe I won’t have to visit for christmas 
                                take out the trash
                                cast all my sins off to Midway
where the birds are waiting, waiting
they are pacing, anxious to get wasted
missing their appointments & waxing &waning
wanting in the worst way
to become paperweights for their own desks at
home, as though none of them had a decent mother
or even a high school health class.

Pin It on Pinterest

Share This
Skip to content