On:

Although you have diedI feel your touch in everyrain drop as ifyour tearson my living shouldersare leavesmeant to disappear or blow away.Your tearsstrike my silken umbrellalike angry fists because we are separated–I in this garden and you in the other. Lynette G. Esposito, MA Rutgers, has been published in PoetryContinue Reading

On:

There is nothing quite like the feel of fresh bloodDripping down the jowls of a greasy faceBacklit shadows dancing from peat moss burningNight; dark night looms so silently loudWhen the rushing rivers of your bloodRoar; drowning out the unspoken pitchLife has a way of becoming fever brightRight when that flameContinue Reading

On:

Blessed are the small creatures of the landthe wise rat, bringing gifts of wisdom and tenacitythe playful mouse, creative rabbitspiders connecting vibrations with patiencesnakes of spiritual intuitionprotect them from those who misunderstand. Blessed are the least of underwater creatureskrill that feed majestic whalesmosquito-devouring minnowsthe adaptable octopus concealing its truthsalmon determinedContinue Reading

On:

I type into the homunculus of steel;Sifted and grafted from the earth.It glints silver and black,Like the stars and darkness it once came from–Blinking in and out of existence.The stand has been like that for ages.I make a note to replace it soon.It’s the color of the sky outside theContinue Reading

On:

When I was a child, I collected catsnot in the crazy cat lady fashionbut just enough to drive my mombonkers. Nights when tomcats yowled after darkI interrupted their loud argumentsand choosing the smallest cat I sawpicked him up. Walking home from town with friendsa cat was stuck in a drainageContinue Reading

On:

The Dandies dream of velvet top hats & monocles dangling from golden chains with their hands stuffed in their pockets & piles of candy wrappers on their bedside tables / Pocket watches unwind themselves inside the forest of waistcoats that line their walk-in closet / The chairwoman of the decorationContinue Reading

On:

I dream of the Sequoiassingingwhen the breezedances amongst maestrolimbs— carving invisible piano noteson their bark.The song is oldI cannot understand the ancient lyric. My wild pen shards words on this pagelike fragmentscrushed by the thought of giantswho do not speak my languageand I cannot express theirs. Lynette G. Esposito, MAContinue Reading

On:

Sad embrace of tears and sweat ruining my makeupreaching my mouth Worked so hard to apply with hands shaking andheart racing butwe said goodbye Sad embrace of soft fur in my hands when theneedle entered, Ijust bought this new shade yesterday His breathing labored, myheart cried, myears bled Sad embraceContinue Reading

On:

The Dandies’ first Christmas in Peacock Lane was the year the decorations came to life / The elves were the first to turn against their homes & scale attached garages & chain linked fences / They chanted dark poetry from the wires around their mouths / Reindeer who used toContinue Reading