A.M. Expired

Here I am again,
time-stamped expired,
a sour emulsion,
like an ashtray wish
rising up from
beneath the irises.
Even the moon
forgets to pirouette,
her hollow bones
nailed to the souls
of so many tree stumps.
In the barren forest,
I found a corpse
under a great mound of mulch,
life nibbled away,
as ugly as any,
but I took the
ring off your finger,
dropped it down the
well of my throat and
let it choke
the remaining breath
I could never seem to locate.

Len Kuntz is a writer from Washington State and the author of four books, most recently the story collection, This is Why I Need You, out now from Ravenna Press. You can find more of his writing at https://lenkuntz.blogspot.com.

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.