I Dream in Submission
to whatever monster my mind has
created. Always a victim, I
cower in corners, shadows, in attempt
to escape manifestations
of yesterday. Today and tomorrow
have not hatched yet, but will
join the hunt soon enough.
Their fangs, dripping with potential
failures, are honed to keep me
screaming for dawn.
hang like shutters of blindness. Upstairs
becomes a directional house of unhappiness. Fear
punches like wind against the fabric of being.
Sunlight is the enemy, as is its sister,
the moon. I howl at emptiness,
ticking like that bastard clock. I envy
its hiding. In shadows,
I crawl on unfeeling knees,
pray for numbness or death
to claim me. I am willing
victim or bride.
after Ascent of the Spirit by Vladamir Kush
Icarus’ wings were paper, not wax.
Made of wishing words and whispered taboos,
he drug them to the end
of a world he did not belong to.
Wrapping them in noose-like knots to his hands,
he swung outward and upward, praying
for a dream to carry him. His eyes
closed for a moment of utopian bliss
before he felt the fire of failing.
Luckily, the doctors told his father,
his heart gave out long before he hit the ground.
A.J. Huffman has published twelve solo chapbooks and one joint chapbook through various small presses. Her new poetry collections, Another Blood Jet (Eldritch Press), A Few Bullets Short of Home (mgv2>publishing), Butchery of the Innocent (Scars Publications), Degeneration (Pink Girl Ink) and A Bizarre Burning of Bees (Transcendent Zero Press) are now available from their respective publishers and amazon.com. She is a four-time Pushcart Prize nominee, a two-time Best of Net nominee, and has published over 2400 poems in various national and international journals, including Labletter, The James Dickey Review, Bone Orchard, EgoPHobia, and Kritya. She is also the founding editor of Kind of a Hurricane Press. www.kindofahurricanepress.com.
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