Jillian Mukavetz
neon signs
alice ties tenor guitars
buried in stalls. Words. metal sinew white halves.
alice ties tenor guitars
toad establishes a deboning station
hatch back of a white mustang. lit by ion neon signs cursive reads: meat.
toad establishes a deboning station
.
alice misses. family last they asked: fire smell.
listen to bluebirds drop. Smell fire
alice is a smell of fire
.
toad looks like father split to razor. bites
alice spiked with
toads bites alice spiked with lime caulk cement.
storyteller
times orbital brain muscles steam in sugar
time.
.
gives me tequila stares. dead, siren sound knees,
someone inside of her.
.
times child. wears red laced riding boots.
crying. dying scissors hands. piano key handle. hands.
.
eats, geranium petals that pop from veins, sitting
in a syringe on the doorstep
.
across from me.
steamed sugar. time.
Jillian Mukavetz was born and currently lives in Denver, Colorado. She earned her BA at the University of Denver and is pursuing her MFA at New England College. Her poems have appeared in delirious hem, Thirteen Myna Birds, and Scapegoat Review. She also plays the fiddle and runs an online publication Women’s Quarterly Conversation that features interview profiles on 21st century women writers and their aesthetic diversity.
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neon signs
alice ties tenor guitars
buried in stalls. Words. metal sinew white halves.
alice ties tenor guitars
toad establishes a deboning station
hatch back of a white mustang. lit by ion neon signs cursive reads: meat.
toad establishes a deboning station
.
alice misses. family last they asked: fire smell.
listen to bluebirds drop. Smell fire
alice is a smell of fire
.
toad looks like father split to razor. bites
alice spiked with
toads bites alice spiked with lime caulk cement.
storyteller
times orbital brain muscles steam in sugar
time.
.
gives me tequila stares. dead, siren sound knees,
someone inside of her.
.
times child. wears red laced riding boots.
crying. dying scissors hands. piano key handle. hands.
.
eats, geranium petals that pop from veins, sitting
in a syringe on the doorstep
.
across from me.
steamed sugar. time.
Jillian Mukavetz was born and currently lives in Denver, Colorado. She earned her BA at the University of Denver and is pursuing her MFA at New England College. Her poems have appeared in delirious hem, Thirteen Myna Birds, and Scapegoat Review. She also plays the fiddle and runs an online publication Women’s Quarterly Conversation that features interview profiles on 21st century women writers and their aesthetic diversity.
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