“Walking Home After the Graveyard Shift” by Jennifer Perrine
Spring 2008, Volume 32, Number 1
Even the fireflies here are lochetic,
waiting to scoot their lemony asses
right up to my skin, to expose their short
streetlight sparks when I least expect it. Mace
and cloves from the bakery still dusting
my fingers, I grow talons of housekeys
that slash the August air, that sad frotteur
pushing against my shirt. Its little huffs
of damp wood and mud pour a fluvial
soup between my breasts. Behind me the owl
whistles its come-on, and I snap my legs
open and shut, a switchblade in the dark.
Jennifer Perrine’s first collection of poetry, The Body Is No Machine, was published by New Issues in 2007. Her poetry has appeared in numerous journals, including Bellingham Review, Green Mountains Review, Nimrod, RATTLE, and Spoon River Poetry Review. Perrine lives in Des Moines, Iowa, where she teaches at Drake University.
Tags: Spring 2008