POEMS: Colleen Louise Barry

AMERICA

When does the middle part begin?
Actually, you’re at the end
with a bunch of beautiful drunk people
stepping over ice. The whole small town
is sleeping. One street lamp is dirty yellow
on the corner screaming,
“this used to mean something!”
And then it goes out.

 

 

 

AMERICA

A man standing
in his small neon flip-flops
in his trailer.
A hundred more trailers
coming out of his face.

 

 

 

AMERICA

without our bodies
we would not even be
able to destroy our bodies

 

 

Colleen Louise Barry is the author of two chapbooks, The Glidden Poems (dancing girl 2015, forthcoming) and Sunburn / Freezer Burn (smoking glue gun 2014). Her drawings and poems appear in various journals such as H_NGM_N, Coconut, The Pinch, Interrupture, Tenderloin, and others. She is a third year poet in the MFA program at UMass Amherst and the Managing Editor of Slope Editions. Her weekly comic, The Nervous System, can be found every Monday at Route 9 Literary Magazine.

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