By Jenn Powers
he cleans his fingernails with a knife
& cooks bone soup fresh kill from the forest blood flecks
mud-caked construction boots late afternoon
light purple now cools the surface
of work benches & then he looks
at you thrown up against the wall & it makes you crazy
don’t you want a love that makes you crazy?
maybe it’s lust heat shooting up
from pelvis to heart to head like a dead tree
finally being ripped out of the ground
pickup trucks & chains & then there’s that lifted soil earth & worms & roots
how you could lay down & die in it & that would be just fine—
’cause that kind of rush erases the loss around us
***
Jenn Powers
Jenn Powers is a writer and visual artist from New England. She’s working on a memoir and a psychological thriller. She has work published or forthcoming in Hayden’s Ferry Review, The Pinch, Jabberwock Review, Mud Season, Thin Air, Calyx, Stonecoast Review, and Star 82 Review, among others. Please visit www.jennpowers.com.