Yellow Mama E zine

Verona

 

by Craig Kirchner

 

I no longer want to wait for a full moon.

I’m bored beyond tolerable,

the dusk sets my feet on the floor,

I’ve molted between the sheets

I crave the denied, the can’t, the won’t.

 

As I throw myself into the night,

the night responds, the stars coax,

the streetlights dim, the rats scatter,

they feel my wrath and thirst,

nothing stands in my way.

 

The city is feasting, it’s all Saint’s Day,

rollicking, dancing,

unaware of my celebration.

Everyone wants to be hugged and kissed,

it’s a buffet fit for royalty.

 

Then through the clamor of the crowd

a glimpse of some delicious past,

a refracted shot of light from the antique gem

hanging erotically, enticingly between

her ample bosom and cleavage

 

She seems to crave the night

as I do, with her coal black eyes,

wanton stride and seductive stare.

Her teeth sink into my throat

as I become paralyzed by her touch.

 

I want to do for her, she tells me

not to bother, I’ve done enough.

She disappears into the crowd,

but leaves me her gem with its sparkle,

her spittle, her mark, her legacy.

 

 

     Craig Kirchner lives in Florida because his granddaughters are there. He loves the aesthetics of writing, has a book of poetry, Roomful of Navels and has had three poems nominated for a Pushcart.  He has been published in Chiron, Yellow Mama, Main Street Rag, and more than 100 others.  Craig houses 500 books in his office and about the same number of poems on a laptop; these words help keep him straight. He can be found at Bluesky.

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    Luke Lester is an artist and writer from Victoria, Canada. He has recently been published in Absolute Underground, Black Petals, Flash Fiction North, Paragraph Planet, Ultramarine Literary Review, and Yellow Mama. More of his art and writing can be found on his blog: The Other Place.