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3 poems by Pattie Flint

8/9/2013

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Picture
Solo cup,
solo under the table;
you're sticky with lip
gloss and smoke-fogged
kisses. Memories are dying
in your slowly crystallizing
rum and coke; who will put
roses on the rose's grave?

~

Tampered
condom
pinprick
pooling
life and
lessons
learned,
breathe deep
the smell of
seventeen
and mornings
with Pacific
lapping at
your shoes;
un tranche de
vie that I gorge
upon.

~

I kept telling my 
dad that he is
the reason, he
is the reason,
he is the reason 
that he is alone.
photo credit: hollykl (connectivity probs on/off-trying to fix) via photopin cc
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