Tuesday, June 8, 2021

Meet Arianna by Emalisa Rose

TV still humming, rips
in her stocking, a poem
or two scratched on the
nightstand.

Blurring his face, she
remembered his lines,
escorting her home, on 
the D train,

buying her gum from the
stand by the stall with the
stink of the bathroom.

Comatose, retching, her hair
in a knot of dark grey reminder -

Meet Arianna.

Her “go to” - tequila

minus the sunrise.




When not writing poetry, Emalisa Rose enjoys crafting and drawing with charcoals. She volunteers in animal rescue. Living by a beach town provides much of the inspiration for her art. Her work has appeared in Beatnik Cowboy, Spillwords and other fine places. Her latest collection is "On the whims of the crosscurrents," published by Red Wolf Editions.





No comments:

Post a Comment

On Tuesday There Was a Point When Bourbon Seemed Like a Good Breakfast Food By jim bourey

That was when morning newscasters started their phony emoting about the cargo ship disaster at the Key Bridge.  The day before, it was more ...