Gail D. Kelley


So What

If I were man enough
I would draw a warm bath of gasoline
pull the straight razor across my wrists
toss in a lit match and sink down into my pyre
I have begun to forget
the true world
los horas del oro
the smell of rain and
it always comes back to
pheromones and blues
floating on the breeze or
the ghost of tarot cards
strewn across unseen tables
Just dance with me


Spring

I look up from
all these bones to see
the snow stained with
rivets and steel and
the blood of lovers
like nothing had ever happened

I look out the window
to see if
the stars had fallen as well
yet nothing had changed

I will never understand
how these whispers
never lose their power
in my dreams
yet never come true

-both poems previously published at Word Riot


Busy Cliipers

Watching skulls float
in the flames of Sloane Square
I realizeI am not so giddy about London
but as colors scab
like tessitura in G hidden behind ears or
words left forgotten on wrists
I know why he sang
so fondly of the hairdresser
because all I can think of is
squeezing past the straight razor
and filling empty diary pages

-previously published at Kill Poet


Lessons

I sit here trying not to drown
in this last pile of bones and
radiographic hieroglyphs
listening to your mundane conversation
while that star dangles from her throat and
the words roll from her tongue
I want to slip a Viagrain your decaf Americano
because she has more to teach you than words
throw that dictionary in the trash

-previously published at Gloom Cupboard