Friday, June 21, 2019

Fingerprints by Ryan Quinn Flanagan

Her fingerprints
are all over everything.

I see them everywhere
now that she has left.

That stupid grimy way she would cough
all over the steering wheel
and act like nothing had happened.

The way we argued over what we couldn’t afford
and then threw everything into the cart
trying to best one another.

Like it was a competition.
Something we could fight about later.

And now that she is gone,
I see her everywhere.

We never shared toothbrush,
but that is about it.

Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a Canadian-born author residing in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with his wife and many bears that rifle through his garbage.  His work can be found both in print and online in such places as: Evergreen Review, The New York Quarterly, The Rye Whiskey Review, Outlaw Poetry Network, Horror Sleaze Trash, The Dope Fiend Daily and In Between Hangovers.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Improv with Whiskey & Cars by Linda Bryant

That night, a broken axle, sticks inside me, sweet burnt odor of bourbon & Marlboros. Drunk on Wild Turkey, Mama cussed Daddy out, my si...