Saturday, June 7, 2014

Two poems by Stephanie Smith

When we wake up and kiss the ground
we are reminded of our own impermanence
This world is not ours but borrowed
The world is where we can stop and have a drink
The swimming holes are empty
and I see a pregnant woman’s legs
spread v-shaped on the ground
She crushes an anthill because she is afraid
She tries to swallow the sky but fails
They say earthquakes are caused by fallen angels
and the dead perform mathematical calculations
to quell the boredom of the grave
And when catastrophe happens
God is at the bar having a beer
unaware or choosing not to care
the sky is falling down

All my Tuesdays are booked up—
days of rain
nights of lightning
that boring in-between
that unavoidable rush
of lethal ennui
There is no going back
And when I fall forward
I land flat on my face

Author bio: 

Stephanie Smith was born in 1978 in Scranton, Pennsylvania where she still resides. Her debut poetry chapbook, DREAMS OF DALI, was released in 2010 from Flutter Press. Her work has appeared in such publications as PIF MAGAZINE, STRONG VERSE, and POETRY QUARTERLY.

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