cut poem
when I think
of you
I am happy
anxious
like
a
hurricane
or
a
flood
wreaking the
land with
my sea
doing
as
I
please
laying
down
when I think
of
you
sad boy
my ass against
the glass
of the desk
a bruise appears
a day later
purple and
beautiful
a story a mark
of our
breaking
love.
or something like
that.
I wonder why
my belly aches
hurts
the glass
pressing
against me
creates
tiny crevices
in my skin
the glass breaks
when I touch it
like a sad boy
you touch him
he breaks.
dream of dogs
there was a
dream of
dogs
dogs with
blackened
slickened
oiled
skin
and
paws
dogs
from
the
mud
they came
from the
trees
and had
a look
I lay on
the chair
around I
looked
and dark
it was
as it
was night
the ancient
dogs
were not
to bite
but hide
behind
the trees
at night
their
slickened
dirty
paws
someone needs
to dream of
dogs
their dirty
pretty
puffy
paws
why not
it be me
Melissa Hansen lives in San Francisco with her husband, where she writes and works at a lot of libraries. She is the author of little beasts, a collection of poetry, and her machine, a fiction collection. You can visit Melissa at www.melissahansen.net
