news of last night

My geographic
tongue has struck the moonlit roof
decayed from the muck
of an overblown stomach
somersaulting soundlessly.

Their frequencies drive
my mind across those train tracks
rumors claim she ate
though open photo albums
suggest inconclusiveness.

So hardly the town
could assemble their mourning
with verified plot
that would bring conspiracy
thinkers and protesters peace.

Once someone blamed God
then threw a bouquet of thanks
into ashes left
by the oddball eggshell gone
as Sign of the Cross went wrong.

I burned my tongue well
as they shouted and guessed at
reasons for diving
off the moonlit roof painted
by sheer conjecture, awake.

Kristine Brown is a freelance writer and editor whose first poetry collection, Scraped Knees, was released by Ugly Sapling in early 2017. Her writing has appeared in Thought Catalog, Inflight Literary Magazine, Burningword Literary Journal, Rambutan Literary, Forage Poetry, among other publications. She amuses herself with experimental milkshakes and blogs at

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