Poetry · Writing

Taper

I lay awake

wondering

why you put down

our candle.

It burned the brightest.

Planes would fly

low

to greet us.

Even as the candle

flickered

you held it close.

The smoke from the snuff

fills my lungs with questions

left unanswered and

a hazardous

cough.

 

Poetry · Writing

Tradition

Wearing Black and Yellow

to all the games

that’s why we win, 

right? Head tilted to

the side

shunned from the light

one antenna down and one

up. That’s why we win, 

Right?

Everything on backwards, 

name breathing in the salty

fragrance of cheese and shit 

and never moving an inch, 

that’s why we win, 

Right?