Most read ▸
Dave Bonta
train horn
the forest pool’s murky surface
stippled with bubbles
mosquitoes rising
only as high as my knees
still drying their wings
West Nile virus
missing the heart-stopping
flush of a grouse
old charcoal hearth
the last butternut tree’s
mossy corpse
a blown-glass sculpture
of the HIV virus—
loud children swarm past
I was once a rose,
in the garden that i was planted in.
I Provided myself with everything
that i needed to grow.
Well,
that's until you came along,
cursing me with your presence.
Not only did you stun my growth,
You also transmitted a virus
One that continues to foster me
in the worst ways possible.