Disappear by Jennifer Henriksen | Shop | Website | Facebook | Twitter
How to Extinguish a Shotgun Weddingpaper
and the irony of a cold kitchen.
the wood adjusting itself for the fire
with a poker between its teeth.
smoke rises in rings faster than she could say
the wedding cake is aflame and I can’t find the bride.
words are overtaken by the kettle’s rumble,
screaming like a pretty girl tied to train tracks.
you think she is younger than you.
dressed in white with straw spread like a halo
around her face, no small ocean crawling out of her eyes
there is no White Western hero in sight.
the date is undecided and your hands shake
like invertebrates at the doctor’s office.
your names is called and swept up
like a river, an open mouth.
It dries up and leaves the fish