Poetry
Wild Birds Unlimited by Nick Martino
—the hush of birdseed rivering the plastic chamber grows a dark applause
—the hush of birdseed rivering the plastic chamber grows a dark applause
More than what she has for her own kid—one last glow stick, not yet cracked. All that light inside, just waiting.
The next scream is so close he jumps when he hears it, almost slipping on the muddied red dirt, soaked from the morning rains.
“If she had prayed harder, in a different language, to someone / or something else, if the cross had been a star / or the star had been a planet.”
I love her indignance over their choice of chain restaurant as much as over the cheating.