Makeup like two bruised eyes

Poem I


Makeup like two bruised eyes;

or like she’s been crying; as if

she’s a silver alien;  blusher or

rouge like a shamed whore or

a painted doll off an assembly

line; lips thin and pained like an

inflamed gash; or syrupy like

candied fruit.


Poem II


Men descend to that fairyland

where time stops; and even the

dullest learn to dance; locked in

tight but with no desire to leave;

forgetful of their mortality; as

creative as a god; striking the

ground under the female mound

with a rod that flowers to people

the mundane world.


(Julian O’Dea)


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