By: Emalisa Rose

sky interrupted

you were lightning
i was the sky
interrupted

moments before
we made rain.

###

double shot

Joe gives me a good pour
the goose with a lemon twist
five big blooming olives

he loves how i flirt with
his parrot eyes..a wink and
some chitter chat, then it’s
down to the shoreline

where the wave artists and
sandpipers are composing
some poems for me.

###

how can i please the editors?

i read a poem about a woman
dunking her hibiscus tea bag
in her steamed hot water as she
she thought about her dead husband

and there’s one about making paella
and burning the heirloom frying pan
the woman’s dead grannie left for her

and the one about the unrest, the
rape of Gaia and the atrocities in
countries i can’t quite promounce

i write like me..sometimes it sucks
sometimes it lands

my old hippie friend told me to write
more ‘fuck poetry’ from when i was a
wayward slut shuffling my body downtown

i told him to leave me alone with the clouds
and the sky and the sea…it’s safer that way.

###

stink

never etched as perpetual
rather a red eyed marauder
a fly by night flash dancer
3D cartographer..cameo
court caroller

plaid pimped and pinnacled
branching over the boulevard

“vaya con Dios mi amor”
you’re milleniums over me

as your leaves flood the water
with the booze and the barnacles
and the last call for coroners

and i hope you still stink of me
come the autumn regataa

###

that one thing

spitting me sideways
having your fill of me
tossing a riddle of red
herring blues and a new
wave rendition of god save
the queen..the british invasion
and 99 flavors and all things
will pass..again and again..etc.

on this fifth day september
the birds have gone gaga
and autumn grabs green off
the sycamore spinning the
festive with fall fangled colors

and you
the one thing that matters.