Cocktail Hour
there were mornings when i’d wake up
and the weight of my own skin
felt too heavy … Read moreCocktail Hour
Tag: poetry
Junebug
Brown anoles skittered over scorching cement,
as they desperately fled sweaty fingers
covered in chalk dust
and a lopsided smile that was missing a couple teeth. … Read moreJunebug
Mamá, Ángel, Florida
A collection of poems by Vivienne Serret … Read moreMamá, Ángel, Florida
Gated
Driving in, I spotted her.
Standing in the only shade for blocks
on a boulevard of vast divergence,
but little in the way of trees,
with layered clothing, a knit beanie, and boots … Read moreGated
North of south
, not being from the mire but still in it,
make steeples of my hands, each joint wooden like
the inner ribbing, and I dive into the shallow
brown-green muck, and algae clings to my nose hair … Read moreNorth of south