A. A. Zambrana
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Your Soul Was a Clearance ItemA Poem by A. A. ZambranaYour soul is a store-bought metaphor quivering atop your diaphragm It's still sticky with anonymous fingerprints and spilled liquids from t.. |
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Shields of Stripes and PlaidsA Poem by A. A. ZambranaWe are separated by the blankets strewn along our street ways We can't wait forever to pick which guise to hide beneath Standing on the side.. |
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The WreckageA Poem by A. A. ZambranaFor Konrack |
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Waiting for Our Violins to PlayA Poem by A. A. ZambranaSlow, steady, justified suicide of the soul. Mmm mmm good. |
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I Am Your BelovedA Poem by A. A. ZambranaEverything is cracked and misshapen beneath this ground and our ankles are twisting along the way It's difficult to say who stood highest when yo.. |
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Less Tattered Than We Came InA Poem by A. A. ZambranaWe interlock our four hands to make a cradle for our offspring pious devotion, our sour blossom blooming outward within our palms It is a sickly y.. |
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Bone TissueA Poem by A. A. ZambranaOur bones are mysteries, even to ourselves. |
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BurnA Poem by A. A. ZambranaThe hole your fire burnt into my chest is crusted brown and black around the edges my opaque nails pick and flake the skin from the center as it con.. |
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EpiphanyA Poem by A. A. Zambrana"Here, here!" to organized religion! |
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You Will Always Be In My BloodA Poem by A. A. ZambranaFor my best friend |
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