Monday, July 30, 2012

Stephanie Smith - Two Poems


This fatigue is like
a prison cell
Opium smoke
I did not mean to inhale
A hypnagogue
I worship in
The walking dead
That’s me


No more birthdays
But here’s supplies
     for your survival
For many tomorrows
Maybe tomorrow
     is going nowhere

There’s a lost soul
who’s wandering nowhere
down roads the poets paved
with their own flesh and blood

There’s a child
whose birthday has
     come and gone

He wished for something

Maybe something
     is better than
     nothing at all

Stephanie Smith is a poet and writer from Scranton, Pennsylvania. Her work has appeared in such publications as PIF MAGAZINE, ROSE & THORN JOURNAL, EVERYDAY POETS, THE HORROR ZINE, and BLUESTEM. Her first poetry chapbook, DREAMS OF DALI, is available from Flutter Press.

1 comment:

  1. Stephanie Smith's poetry impresses me more each time I encounter it.

    The second poem in this small group says too much for some of us on certain days.