Member-only story
When Death Comes For Us
Five poems about staying alive or not.
Counter-Espionage
when I get a cold I don’t rest
or sleep it off or stay in at night
I stalk it with whiskey and red wine and tank tops
and harass it with weight lifting in my living room
and a jogging architectural tour on swift feet outside
to not just break the siege of antagonistic bacteria
but spear their nuclei on stakes
as a reminder of what happens
when espionage is committed against my iron bloodstream.
Bloodbath
elizabeth báthory soaking in a bloodbath takes sips
of her epileptic tonic cure but tomorrow she’ll still have seizures
and will need a few more maidens from the countryside.
DyNasty
the royal heredity was a web of sexual politics
enticing incest with familial intrigue
and the sisters-in-law tempted all the husbands
and everyone eyed their cousins for broom closet gasps
