Poems

Thanksgiving

thanksgivingShe hasn’t had this many people in her house
since her husband died. She found his upper
dental plate in the whatnot drawer while looking
for a package of yeast. The floor is collapsing
and they’re all riding the beeline to hell.
Her aunt used to tell her uncles when they drank
too much: You’re in first class on the beeline to hell, Continue reading “Thanksgiving”