5 Poems by Lauren Scharhag

February 10, 2018
maPoems by Robert Keith
February 9, 2018
Don’t Ask by Merran Jones
February 11, 2018

The God Sieve

punctured and perforated, I wait
hoping to strain a little greatness,
praying to cradle some holy pulp.

sang real leaks to deserving dirt
the san greal a leaky boat

my indifference may, by chance,
stuff me with Christly meat.
like either Mary

I become a fabled receptacle
of divine semen, mine to squander,
unwholly savior that I am.




The Bus Ride


In my drug days,
I used to like taking the bus
The countryside rolling through me
In a wash of light and color.
Before I knew it, I was there.
It was like time travel.

Parole is a different kind
Of time travel.
Sober, the bus is much less appealing,
All noise and exhaust.

We stopped in Kansas City.
There was a casino up the road.
Some of the other passengers went
But I opted to stay in the motel room.
I ordered a pizza.
I watched cable TV,
And wondered why I bothered.



Asphalt Fruit


A strawberry in the road
Dropped from a car window,
Or a bike rack, or a grocery sack.
Tonight, the ants will feast.



Looks Back Into You


Red vein laced eyeballs
computer stares into me,
its screen an abyss.



Running Barefoot


It’s been said that
Couples who’ve been together a long time
Begin to resemble one another.
These cracked heels and leathern soles will attest:
They’ve been kissing ground
For quite some time.



About the Author

Lauren Scharhag is a writer of fiction and poetry. Her work has received the Door is a Jar Award and the Gerard Manley Hopkins Award for poetry, as well as a fellowship from Rockhurst University for fiction. She lives on Florida’s Emerald Coast. She lives in the Florida Panhandle with her husband and three cats. To learn more about her work, visit: www.laurenscharhag.blogspot.com