Published in Chill Mag Issue 6: Flux

My poem, “Midnight in the Poor House,” has been published in Chill Mag Issue 6: Flux.

Midnight in the Poor House 

Tonight I die
      a million little deaths 
      while drinking tepid tap
      from a chipped lipped mug
      filled with chlorine 
      and caustic chemicals
The stink of it 
      covers the grave rot
      of those poor fools
      who drank before me

My sinuses are itchy
      and the kitchen is quiet 
      cold
      but quiet
Except for the padded paws
      tap tap tapping the linoleum
      from that damn cat
      Achoo 
      always sashaying 
      like a histamine dream

And tick tick ticking
      goes the analog
      above the stove
      like anyone still knows
      the shape of hands
      or how they feel
Feel like my calluses
      that scratch
      and are rough
Yet they do comfort me

In this house tonight
      or any night
      the peeling wallpaper— 
      a jaundice yellow blister—
      is made more pale
      in the cool white
      of those wrong bulbs
      I bought 
Even though you told me
      we needed warmth

I hear
      but I don't listen
Words are wasted on me
      like cherry red lipstick
      on the colorblind
      or stock options
      for the poor
And my portfolio 
      is now empty
Empty

Empty like this house
      after you left
Empty like our bed
      with your imprint
      still in the mattress
      and on my life
It's all empty
      so I stay awake
      lest I dare to dream again