Gas Station Slurpee
About the time the hills bloom purple, it all falls
apart again, but don’t bother rebuilding, with plastic
straws and Poptart wrappers, five loose nickels and a fat
blue pill, haven’t you heard? For every biggest fish, there
comes a bigger one to eat it, so even vetch can’t survive
the winter, like uncareful tires crush lizards
on the asphalt, sure, we can listen to Sublime,
I know a thing or two about
doing it the wrong way.
*
Negotiations
If you’re lucky you can make this all
stop, if you write enough birthdays
in the calendar, and test the mattresses
at IKEA, I solemnly swear to buy only
white pressboard furniture, or map out
a life in grease pencils, like sectioning
a corpse of pork, crossing out the hole
in the kitchen wall, then a smudged
and dotted arrow, god forbid we
forget, the pair of green lamps
goes over there.
*
Hana Damon-Tollenaere lives in California with her girlfriend and a variety of reptiles and amphibians. Her published work can be found at hanadamontollenaere.carrd.co
From The Archives: Published on This Day
- Two Poems by William Welch (2023)
- Passage at Nineteen by Donna Hilbert (2022)
- Broadleaf by Jessica Whipple (2021)
- Absence by Ed Ahern (2020)
