Two Poems by Sheena Carroll

Poems from FAUCET by Alex Gregor
August 12, 2018
Ok yes it was everything. I’ve done enough praying today.
August 14, 2018


I am drinking cran-raspberry La Croix to stop myself from drinking another can of beer instead

and reading about June Gibbons and I want to read Pepsi-Cola Addict because what if it is true/what if instead of these minor chord piano and sax nightmares I can be addicted to caffeine instead/lose all my teeth instead of my friends

Humming off-key in the dark reading about creepy twins makes me wonder about my doppelganger/where is she and what is her addiction

I bet she prefers pamplemousse (I do too)

I think if we saw each other on the street we’d both go straight home and drink some more/it’d be better to be alone than with her

The piano is playing high-pitched/I can hear her but she is too drunk to play well so she plays a broken melody that makes fog appear before my eyes

This fog shows me pictures/it shows me that she is thinking about me too and I feel so bad for her

This song is dedicated to her/please get better soon



The moon has been bigger than usual, but no one seems to notice. A colossal omen as I drive down Parkway East.

I swerve because I can’t stop staring – a near miss from the SUV in the left lane. I kind of wish he’d hit me – an excuse to pull over. That’s messed up. Unjustifiable, just like my fear of the moon.

I keep saying that this is Year Zero, but no one seems to care. Shoes with feet still inside keep washing onto the Vancouver shore and

the static radio station started playing music today. It’s music that I’ve never heard before. It makes me drive faster than I should.

Midnight on Parkway East: my mind is asleep and I haven’t blinked since I got off the exit ramp. I am a blank space. I keep sweating.

Those feet danced in those shoes under the light of this massive moon. My own feet? Totally numb. I keep driving.

I should pull over. I should give myself to the moon. My feet are now swelling. No longer fit in my shoes.

About the Author

Sheena Carroll (a.k.a. Miss Macross) is a Pittsburgh-based poet, tutor, witch, and painter. She is influenced by spacecraft, witchcraft, and personal trauma. Her work has been published in Philosophical Idiot, The Mantle, Train, and Flash Fiction Magazine. You can find her on Twitter @missmacross and on Facebook at