Size / / /

There was a poet in the family

   oh yes, a century back, black-

haired, green-eyed, lean

combo of charm and arrogance

At parties

he superimposed himself on guests

sucked the purple from wine

to dye his breath—so charming, though

we hardly minded

One night, he vanished

We found him, yes, years after

flat on sand

preserved by sun

   posing, it seemed

like bones of a bird

in a glass case

on his thinned lips

a look of serene achievement

We covered him in sand, and

walked home




Rolli writes. For adults and children. Over 1000 things so far. Interested in sponsoring/soliciting some of his stuff? Contact him at rolliwrites@hotmail.com, or visit his blog.
Current Issue
15 Aug 2022

You turned and Hailé was hunched by the counter, holding the Rift in his bare stomach together with his hands.
Their eyes trace the curves of our gears / like birds eyeing the shoreline and we / recite the songs our makers wrote
During recess, we would fight all the time.
Wednesday: Braking Day by Adam Oyebanji 
Friday: Appliance by J. O. Morgan 
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Strange Horizons
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Podcast: 6 June Poetry 
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