Cougar WebWorks
Alternative Culture Magazine

Poetry

Ess

Twenty years later and she
swims still to the surface of your
dreams, blue eyes reflecting your brown
in morning coffee--no one
knows why you pace late at night
afraid of sleep-strangling
the woman in your bed. And the late night

tap of your daughter's midnight feet only
reminds you of the soft bird pulse
in her throat, how easy it is
to calm the frantic beating thrashing
of arms and wings and legs, the scent of girl
that just won't die
with cold water, cold flesh
balled fists

Owl Pellets

cold, bone--
dry, branches, lifting white
to meet the air, to match the screams
flesh sloughing off in wads
in passing. Forget him before you lost yourself.

hands, tiny fingers
curled into fists on a blue-and-white
screen, feet kick out, heart pumps blood
picture throbbing like an amoebae
on a machine that says everything will be all right
liar. cold, bone--
dry, bone needles digging their cold way
out, flesh sliding off in passage
too young to meet its brand-new
world. Forgive me before you lose yourself.

lying, still ticking
in the dark next to your body
damaged flesh sewn whole
damaged flesh, sewn hole, only memory
of the folded skull emerging
from nightmare into reality
screaming stark as it ripped its way
out, proud parents
of a stone-cold
dream