Ugly Venus
walks off the water
and lungs collapse
all over town.
The breathless city
goes dark
with burned retinas
as a population of feet
stampede into the sea
from which she first emerged,
fragrant with brine
clinging to skin
she’d gladly jump out of
if she ever found a desire
to quench. After all,
if no one is thirsty,
then why so much water?
***
Throb
This is a house for headaches –
the pound and pump of them, blood
bulging in the veins. He doesn’t believe in aspirin, says nicotine is a crutch.
When he’s not looking, she pulls
a smoke from pursed paper lips, tucks it between her teeth, tastes the tongue- flick of tobacco. She targets the pain in her temples and roots for her blood to tell the poison from the pink.
When raw air fills with an acrid smell—
and worse, she hears his voice again—
she stubs the red coal out on her palm.
"There’s a hole in the ozone, "he observes.
But the sun is shining hotly now, never mind the pain light brings.