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ADELAIDE Independent Monthly Literary Magazine / Revista Literária Independente Mensal, New York / Lisboa, Online Edition  

 




 

 



 

 

 

 

 

SOMETHING BLUE
by Heather Lee Rogers

 

 

 

 

Nuclear Fission

 

You see our love
was just good chemistry
those first date cocktails of
raw pheromones
and evolutionary drive,
despite your ego
we are not divine
just well-dressed test tubes
mixing atoms
and hot molecules
so when our unit split
that pain of fission
was our power bursting free
but I matter
and was not destroyed;
I am stronger and more stable
without you.

 

 

Something Blue

 

Cocktails made too bitter
for their special day,
the bride’s mom cries
and cannot speak,
the band
plays songs of love
in minor keys,
loud bridesmaids
laugh and push
the bride to dance…

She cannot rest,
her fate sealed
with a small dry kiss,
her garter
and her last name
pulled off by his teeth,
she is something blue
but she is beautiful,
Her guests pretend
to like their drinks
while forcing smiles and
aching to be next.

 

 

 

Train Song

 

Pitch darkness
in my childhood bed
I listen for the train,
heart rising
with the whistle note
and roar that echoes through
two miles of barren trees
those bold rumbles
chugging through my body
vivisecting
my home town
strong spine of missed
dreams and memories
a breath, a longing,
a minor-chord sigh
tracks laid across my flesh
a seam connects
my wishes to my worlds
a rushing through so many
childhood midnights
chest pounding
marking time
with the thunder
of the train.

 

 

 

 

 

Ask Me

 

I want to open
up my skin for you
show you where
my bones connect firm
muscles to my tissues
wet with tears,
the messy heart
that beats and breaks
unschooled,
the capillaries
where my dreams
run swiftly
hot and cold,
the wilderness
of my strange roots
all tangling, pulling
your loose thoughts
to braid them tightly,
tightly to my own.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Cyclone

 

Yes, screaming:
She came into the world
the second time
the same way as the first.

Late September
asked his only passenger
“Front or Back?”
She said “Back”
He said “That’ll be a Rough Ride!”
She said “I know my roller coasters”
sat down.
This time, with no seat-mate,
at every big drop her legs
slammed against the bar
slammed against the bar
slammed against the bar
After,
as she climbed out hoarse and sore
He said “You are BRAVE!”
She thought “Man, you have no idea.”
then She
allowed herself a tiny smile
raised her face up to the sun…

then She
released the bar
of her rough ride
then She
allowed back in
a little pride
then She
began
again.

 

 

 

About the Author:

Heather

Heather Lee Rogers compulsively tells stories as a writer and actor in NYC.  Her poems have appeared in the following printed and online publications: The Rat’s Ass Review, Harbinger Asylum, Here Comes Everyone (UK), Leopardskin & Limes, El Portal  S/Tick, Waterways, Adanna Literary Journal, Jersey Devil Press and the Kaaterskill Basin Literary Journal. 

 

 




 




 

 

 

     
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