By Laura Post

I have bursts of being a body, but they never last long.

I buried a lightbulb,

thought it might hatch fire,

set those lazy fields ablaze.

We unshelve

ourselves sometimes, dog-eared

and plaintive—spells of them tucked away

for once of us.

Our neighbors keep us up at night

firing

BBs

at an old mattress :

that we

had control over our dreams.


Laura Post is from New Jersey and currently lives in Ohio. Her poetry has appeared in The Moth Magazine, New South, Occupy Poetry, and elsewhere.

Pin It on Pinterest

Share This