dreadful(ly useless). I stick to pavement
face down. I am bad
luck, a shiny pittance, a weight
in shadowed pockets. Drop me.
Remind me I am nothing
more than another childish wish.
and a skyscraper is born
a baby a building bound in black
magic mirrored windows and miles
of steel pillars polarized by the devil
forged in fire blessed in hell
the dress code for success hasn’t changed
isn’t negotiable it starts with a lab coat
covered in consecrated earth and blood
Never must become nowhere.
into once again, dinging mirrors
tomorrow’s bumper rubs yesterday’s
shine from existence. Eventually
(originally added as a footnote)
must witness eternity,
collapse inside its own insanity,
reflect upon infinity. Only
then can after sneak up on ever, and crack
today down the middle. Whatever.
Everything has already named itself
A.J. Huffman has published thirteen full-length poetry collections, thirteen solo poetry chapbooks and one joint poetry chapbook through various small presses. Her most recent releases, The Pyre On Which Tomorrow Burns (Scars Publications), Degeneration (Pink Girl Ink), A Bizarre Burning of Bees (Transcendent Zero Press), and Familiar Illusions (Flutter Press) are now available from their respective publishers. She is a five-time Pushcart Prize nominee, a two-time Best of Net nominee, and has published over 2600 poems in various national and international journals, including Labletter, The James Dickey Review, The Bookends Review, Bone Orchard, Corvus Review, EgoPHobia, and Kritya. She is also the founding editor of Kind of a Hurricane Press. www.kindofahurricanepress.com.