Size / / /

Content warning:


The face in the cow pasture,
visible as the sun rose,
shadows outlining cheek and lash,
chin and misshapen ear;
in full day you’re hillock and divot,
camouflaged in plain sight;
we never spoke,
and I kept your secret,
but that late night,
on the way home from a party,
when Joseph Stein
tried to yank my pants off,
his hot breath on my belly,
I ran,
leaped your fence and ran,
behind me he came,
grim of purpose, and I, frightened.

Across you, I ran, the jut of your chin,
the great furrow between your lips,
whispering my apology as I went,
and when the sun peeked above the Earth,
I saw your eyes open,
heard him give a sharp cry behind me,
heard the snap.

I still keep your secret.



David C. Kopaska-Merkel has 1200+ published poems, short stories, etc. (since 1972). He won the Rhysling Award for best long poem in 2006 for a collaboration with Kendall Evans. His latest book is The Ambassador Takes One For The Team, a collection of speculative poetry. Blog at http://dreamsandnightmaresmagazine.blogspot.com/. @DavidKM on Twitter.
Current Issue
8 Aug 2022

my uncle walks around with amulets tied to his waist
Cia transits between you: a moon the size of home, a tiny hole in Shapa’s swirls.
Foxglove was called Foxglove not because of the flower, but because she could slip into the skin of a fox like a hand into a glove.
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