THREE POEMS BY DARREN DEMAREE

EMILY AS A LIGHTNING BUG

 

I don’t need

to see Emily’s ass glow

at night

 

to know that I must

cup my hands

if I want to feel

 

that sort of magic.

I’ve broken

all our jars

 

as an offering to her.

I’ve poked holes

in the roof

 

of our house

so that she

can really breathe.

 

I run through the yard

just in case

she’s watching me.

 

 

 

 

EMILY AS I BOUGHT ALL OF THE PEACHES

 

There is a peach truck

that drives up

from Georgia to Ohio

 

every summer

& that truck is always

on our family calendar.

 

Emily waits for that truck.

The last time they pulled in

to the Weiland’s parking lot

 

the back was crates only.

It turns out that if you pay

five thousand dollars

 

for five thousand dollars

of peaches they will

drop them off at your house.

 

I had to do it.  You’re supposed

to give steel for an eleventh

anniversary present,

 

but there is no metal

Emily wants more

than a truck of peaches.

 

 

EMILY AS SHE PUT ON THE BLUE VEST

 

There’s an almost darkness

that her skin can cling to

when she’s almost naked.

 

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Darren Demaree has had poems appear, or are scheduled to appear, in numerous magazines/journals, including Hotel Amerika, Diode, North American Review, New Letters, Diagram, and the Colorado Review. He is the author of nine poetry collections, most recently “Bombing the Thinker” (September 2018), which was published by Backlash Press. He is the Managing Editor of the Best of the Net Anthology and Ovenbird Poetry. He is currently living and writing in Columbus, Ohio with his wife and children.