Shoshauna Shy
Ice
Our son
slips up slides slackens
Your calm cracks
Cuts sharper than glass
the speed knocking me
to a skid
Curling
I loathe to remember
that a father's wrath frosted
your older brother
a grandfather beat blue
his firstborn son
how you were reared
in this wind chill
Guys
The kinda guy I magnetize
belongs behind bars
or just won parole
or is goin cold turkey while
me & his dog crouch
behind the couch
so Sukey says
Where's yr radar girl What
you got is a penchant
for the marginal Let me
pick you a man you can
play smart Now this one
take you to the Cascades
& make you so cozy you
never get wet & you never
get lost
& I say What am I? Half-dead
or somethin?
Okay okay
Sukey says How bout this one
He reach between yr ribs
& loosen yr fears
& juggle them so high
you laugh them into
one big blur With this guy
every day's the day
the circus comes to town
I say
Don't bring me him
& not his brother neither when
all's I want is the kinda guy
gonna show up in time
when I miss the boat
to Caracas & the islanders
are talkin
rape
Lip of Stitches
Jacy say be nice
be liked
Teacher say give in
get along
Mama say speak when you
spoken to A man's smile you don't
shrug at
His as elastic
as the waist of my slacks
Slim hand on gearshift
Glance licks my thigh
Says You got a boyfriend
shifting into 2nd
He good to you
shifts into 3rd
Got his foot pressing harder
Trees fly one blur
He touch you where
Needle quiver at 50
He put his tongue
where
His voice liquid shine
Coming curve makes him
lift foot to slow
Door handle in palm
I shift down shoulds I jump
Taste snowbank
Make trees
stand still
Thanks to pockets, Shoshauna Shy enjoys how, unlike pottery or painting, writing poetry can happen anywhere at the drop of a hat. Her poems have been published on-line in Tintern Abbey and Dust On Our Palms, and in many literary journals that include Pudding Magazine, Fresh Ground, Whiskey Island, Taproot Literary Review, and Double-Entendre.