Poetry: 3 Poems by Rebecca Kokitus
my only caller is the
nightfall, loosening and growing heavier
on my chest like a drunken lover dozing
I tend to wish upon the moon
instead of the stars, because she knows me
like she knows her craters.
(star)dust bunny stirring in the sky,
she gazes down at me, that cold stare—
one eye open in sleep.
I am a shadow turned inside out.
from the bathroom at the union transfer
this poem is for the girls who dance at punk shows.
with pink hair and brunette roots, with dark lipstick
on their teeth.
this poem is for the carousel ring metallic smell
on my hands left from a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon,
blood smell, dirty city smell. this poem is for the
honeycomb bathroom tile, moving like acid trip nightmare.
this poem is for the drunk girls waiting in line to use the toilet.
for the girls who are beautiful because they are
not beautiful, but have accepted that.
I see you sway like candle flame, like
tree branch in heavy wind and that’s beauty,
that’s petals falling like snow
that I’m trying to catch on my tongue.
bitter chardonnay like drinking
hydrogen peroxide, it’s just after sunset
when the sky’s 10 mg Ritalin blue,
blue as my father’s old jeans, and
white of threadbare, white of cobweb
and my soul’s blue as a robin’s egg
knocked from the nest.
I ask if you want to join me outside
and you tell me you’re just going to
keep watching your Yankees game.
I’m Yankee stripe blue, Parliament cigarette
insignia blue. frostbitten toe blue,
but I still go barefoot.
I’d imagine spring’s frostbite
feels like a kiss after a shared milkshake—
stomachache cream and ice.
the moon waxes. I wane.