Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
evin Apr 2013
she is wary
of ****** thermometers
of masculine logic behind sterile
of adjectives that make things difficult
to put in her mouth
and swallow.

evin Apr 2013
A little boy kicked
a ball, not a red ball,
into the sky.

Somewhere between his laugh
and the clouds,
He lost sight of it.

evin Mar 2013
What will become of us
when sons inherit hate?
Will we be proud?
Will we offer spirits, weighted
with every detail and derision?
Yes, there is blood and grief,
there are tears enough
to salt these hills
and fill our wadis;
Yet wadis squander
all we spill out.

evin Mar 2013
Max Boxer,
accused of ******
local women,
was brutally killed

His killer,
a woman arrested
this morning
on animal abuse charges,
confessed immediately.

evin Mar 2013
I never liked sitting on porches.
My father did
and sometimes my mother too.
I wondered,
are they really in love.
One might think so
if he passed down the street
toward the sunset
and happened to look over his shoulder
and see my mother's head
propped against my father's neck.
He might even hasten his step
into the oranges & reds & purples
with a new outlook,
hoping to find love
or maybe even a different life;

I know
that when it got cold and dark
my mother would come in
with her eyes on the floor
pretending to call our dog
(her way of praying)
until she made it to the kitchen.

For dinner
she cooked with onions
because she cared about us too much
to stay out on the porch
and look up past the stars.

evin Mar 2013
manifested on mourning swells
all too soon. a slow fade

grayed over our blue sea
and your green eyes.

i hope you feel


evin Mar 2013
there is a simile
in the moon
and the way
her belly waxes
with each waning,
she won’t let me
write it.

Next page