Category: poetry

It stayed like that: a rosy ring of jailed blood that came to the barred window
and never left.

It was like that.

This is the film
I could finally get cast in.

They say it looked like a big flower had sprung
in the place where I shot myself dead,
just like those ribbon pigtails clung
onto either side of your head.

The way she could turn in to her camera close-up
like life depended on her.

I draw a door on the floor and tell him, This is where dad
used to take me for dinner.

She looked up and out and jumped
into the stars, into the famous
valley of light.

I’m told they buried they body with the garter belt still on.

Not a speaking role.

She tried to make him feel loved but how could she when she didn’t love herself? She tried to give…