Glass Poetry Press

Volume One Issue One

Daria Tavana

Bunkered Up!

in this so-called bungalow —
hello, Apollo's halo.
if you're so gold
why don't you stay?
mug like a hearse-shaped pill,
smell like a pack of new erasers,
mouth like a spoiled brass doorknob.
angel officially frozen, forever my
wedding's white
banana's bruise
party's purple
bleach's blonde
black! upon white
upon black!
You are the yellow-most
part of the egg and the
bright corona of mi cuerpo.
I won't barrage you
with baggage or claims
curled like commas.
Tell me that today
this makes sense.
Save all that stolen
sorrow for tomorrow.