at the buffalo

By Michele McDannold

 

good morning in the still dark

edgy shadows

damp remembrance of yesterday

reporting live from the

drop-in motel

where a combination of

roadside picnics

comforting if not serene

& sad domestic situations

occur

simultaneously

 

expired honey returns

to her room with

package in tow

maybe it’s work

maybe it’s the kind of work

polite society wouldn’t speak of

 

i keep watch out of the periphery

wonder if the chinese take-out is okay

without refrigeration

it smells like an

alcoholic’s wet dream in here

on the margins

but this space in the middle

where it’s all warm without a single fuss

where it’s all your scent and mine lingered together

on the bed sheets

where the effectiveness of a single yessss

causes the bedside alarm clock to crackle uncontrollably

it’s probably responding to some bizarro frequency

 

i forget your name

i forget mine

it is

the best

 

*This poem was previously published in Horror, Sleaze, Trash.

 

Michele McDannold is a poet, editor, publisher and literary activist. She has organized poetry events and/or performed poetry with a bunch of unabashed free-thinkers across this great United States most happily by roadtrip but sometimes by plane, train or coincidence. Based out of Michigan City, Indiana, Michele runs the Magical Jeep Lending Library wherever the region will have her. She has an extensive assortment of flannel and rubber chicken heads. Michele’s chapbook Point of Departure has just been released from Cocklebur Press and her full-length poetry collection Stealing the Midnight from a Handful of Days is available from Punk Hostage Press.

 

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Author: authorbios

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