Poetry / Deirdre Kovac

  Stop’t Stop. Give it back. Yes, that.Great bathing pleasure. With you.Pose me like a rich girl, which girlyou watch fall in the basement,all blood and teeth and stitchescoming loose. Bury itin the front yard, thedead rabbit. Deadhamster. Deadother hamster. Trinketsgalore like Tet. Tut.Like the library yard. Greenand gushing with lemonade.Made special but spills.For the … Continue reading Poetry / Deirdre Kovac