Tag Archives: Christine A. MacKenzie

Don’t Fall Apart

There are tulip bulbs that rupture the earth in white pain that you continue to pretend isn’t your own better swallow all those pills             better stroll in the fragrant woods                         better talk about it the littered streets hold the man … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Dissection for Beginners

Body rests on the stomach, skin bloated with fluid. Pungent and ripe. Think not person, but object. Thing. Muscles. Fascia. Fat. Bone. Divide into pieces. Unzip the skin. Shedding that thick Winter coat at the brink of Spring, the maroon … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | 1 Comment