Poetry: Divya Mehrish
Autumn is coming I drink
blueberries from the palms my mother wears today
cloudy with ink stains from phone bills, black
congealing with brine melting from eyes
drunk with yesterday’s cramps
dripping through hollows of ribs
echoes of glockenspiel eroding bone
For Sale sign bleeding scarlet onto
grass in the backyard my father
hammers away at the swing set
island of plastic my childhood disembodied
juxtaposition of hollow plastic oozing neon
kisses onto the wheat
leather work boots he can’t retire out of now since
money needs to keep sliding, crisp, between fingers
Nicotine can’t pay for itself
on my sixteenth birthday in June mom
puckered her lips and proposed
quitting from family divorce papers
raiding dad’s eyes
rabies prickling papery eyelids
she tried to kiss him on the forehead
throbbing temples stinging lips the truth
unsung they sobbed into each other’s hair
vodka wails staining our walls this house poison
we are waiting now for our blood to stop flowing through
xylem veins heaving syrup against gravity
you are waiting for memories to transpire lemon
zest materializing on skin like oil after sticky sleep
Artist Bio: Timothy Phillips has been recently featured in several art Magazines like A5 Art Magazine out the UK, and he has been distributed to over 150 countries as a featured artist for Dec 2018 through April 2019.
