Little Deaths

I feed this world my soul like a corpse buried in a garden,

Roots latching on and draining,


A combination between being eaten alive and decomposing.

I am the quiet one

Because tubers are in my mouth

And I couldn’t bear to disappoint the worms.

I am my own surgeon, you see.

Every morning I scalpel my face into

Something resembling health.

Hymns for the Bastards: Seven.

(I am not your victim)

I am slit wrists bleeding out onto the bathroom floor

Asking myself why I keep coming back to this idea of vampire death

Leaving enough of myself behind to stain

(I am not your victim)

I am panic attacks so bad

I don’t shake like a leaf, I shake like an earthquake

(I am not your victim)

I am no trust no muss no fuss.

I am silent in classes about domestic violence because his friend is in it

I am judgement incarnate

I am missing in action.

Most importantly,(I am not your victim)

Short-eared owl  0fcm0048

Owl and Squirrel: Tanka

I’m prey, you, hunter,

We dance the ancient tango

I fear your talons

You fear only my bones

Catching in your throat.

Author’s Notes: Last summer, a great horned owl was perched on the power line outside of my house. I’m still beating myself up for not getting any pictures. A little squirrel happened to be running on the wire and stopped in it’s tracks when it saw the owl, and my family and I watched as the squirrel would tentatively approach the owl and then run back as the owl sat and watched, waiting for the squirrel to get within talon range.   I was describing the predatory way my rapist (R.)  treated me from the beginning of our relationship to my therapist, and a mental image of the owl and the squirrel came into my head and I knew I had to write a poem about it. I chose to write a tanka because a lot of tankas are about nature, so this little story is a perfect fit.

Slam Sunday: Logan by Zachary Kluckman

Finally, two of my great loves combined! This is a really creative and heartfelt poem, and I want to share it.

Even our heroes dream of being someone else.


Poet’s Twitter: @ZacharyKluckman

Poet’s Website: physicalpoet.wix.com/zacharykluckma…

Astronaut Love Poem

And though we’re a million miles apart

I still swear I hear your heartbeat in the whirring of my machines

And if I look out the window long enough

I swear I see you down there past the clouds

On the front porch

Sipping that wine you’ve had since before you were old enough to drink it

Do you look back and see me up here

Or do you just see the stars?