Litkicks Message Board Archive

UNDER HER BREATH

Posted to Action Poetry




Tess spends
much of the night
sitting in
that corner booth
where a
naked bulb
dangles above
her head
carving shadows
on her face.
her dark
sunken eyes
stagger in
their sockets
as dim faces
flicker past
the café window.
a dying moth
flutters
in tiny circles
next to the
smoldering ashtray
as she whispers
descriptions
of her favorite
magazine ads
under her breath
& forges haikus
out of crumpled
cigarette wrappers.