Monday, May 23, 2022

Vacillant by Lauren Scharhag

This is my heart 
on a string,
the yeah, no, 
I mean, no, yeah.
Mind on a string,
back-forth, up-down,
pink-gray yo-yo
of desire and mood,
but the body—
the body swings 
only one way,
forward-forward.
A bird breaking itself
against glass,
forever-forever,
but for you, my lips
incapable of no-no,
only heaving myself
at what is solid,
praying that
these wings
are enough.




Lauren Scharhag is the author of fourteen books, including Requiem for a Robot Dog (Cajun Mutt Press) and Languages, First and Last (Cyberwit Press). Her work has appeared in over 150 literary venues around the world. Recent honors include the Seamus Burns Creative Writing Prize, three Best of the Net nominations, and acceptance into the 2021 Antarctic Poetry Exhibition. She lives in Kansas City, MO. To learn more about her work, visit: www.laurenscharhag.blogspot.com



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