Melancholy Hyperbole

Poetry about longing.

Tag Archive for ‘summer’


The sun flares over the bay, its haze a portal — to where I left a skin behind: under cliffs where a windbreak stood, catching barbecues, a waft of hot dog fat, skrikes of kids, open-mouths, white noise, broken kites, tugging pants for treats, tugging nan’s, dads tugging hands of ozone-scorched pink, where cirrus streaks cream on blue from gadabouts, tilted faces singed around sunblock and shades.   A photo […]

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Your memory is a pantry cleaned of food, a shelf of peeled up paper and two ants fighting for the last stale crumb.   Your love was a tourniquet.   Your scent is fried chicken, a hated summer job. You peeled those work wears and picked lily of the valley, lit candles, cooked me food I’d never eaten – scallops, imitation crab.   You wrote poems, I threw them away. […]

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