Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Slimy Lemons in Aged Whiskey

by Brent Lucia

The old bird walked in, flapping her cheap wings.
Scouting for rusty Johns.
Screaming at Hell’s gate to let her in for her sins.

She clung to our noses like burnt rubber.
Peeling at the rind.
Dumping a twist in her Powers on the rocks.

And in the black sea, against her empty palm.
Sinking against the past.
Passing away from all the lonely touches of her day.

Brent Lucia was born and raised in Massachusetts but has been living in New York City for the past ten years. He is currently an adjunct lecturer at City College of New York and has been teaching both literature and writing courses for the past four years.

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