Juice Moon How I fell all five eggs. Egg as years. Felt the hemisphere overturned, the blonde dog breaking in two. Whoâ€™s keeping you sharp? Not the garden gnomes. Bright terndermellons, lemon squares at your block eyes. Hens camp on the porch, our dearness hangs in the trees. I walked home and found you here. Part mine, sour phantom. Part something good. You gave me a handful of orange roses that laughed up at me. Our fertile method sprang at the night yard.
POETRY | 97
Fiction, poetry, creative nonfiction, and art selected for phoebe's Winter 2019 issue.