mean

the day grinds its way slowly into her back/ a bad
mattress stiffens her jaw

it is the mindless banalities that pass as conversation
between co-workers

her paycheck spread too thin across the bread of
weeks; too much gristle and bone and not enough

blood

meatless meals of beans and corn bread/nights
in the electronic arms of the tube

mean as a bear

carrying groceries home in the rain in shoes
twice resoled and feverish with flu

it is the early dawn

mocking her unfinished efforts; unpaid bills,
unanswered letters, unironed clothes

tracks

of pain in her face left by time; the fickle high of it
facing the mirror of black flesh

mean as mean can

pushed to the floor but max is not max enough
no power/out of control/anxiety

it is the sun illuminating cobwebs

that strips her of her haunted beauty; reveals
the hag at her desperate hour

children beware
 

To celebrate National Poetry Month and in appreciation of the many cancelled book launches and tours, we are happy to present an April Celebration: 30 Presses/30 Poets (#ArmchairBookFair). Please join us every day for new poetry from the presses that sustain us.