10
two poems by laurie mackie
I woke up this morning
woke to the knowing I’d chosen
to ignore, kept buried deep and fed
within the bowels of my carcass
to maggots gorged, excreted castings
on my skin, demanding copulation,
reproduction, life outside decay
and from the Lodgepole Pine,
silver lace-boned fingers bare,
comes the black-wing, silent.
Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore
Seven.
Girl-doll, boy-doll wedding.
Plastic smiles.
He does—she does.
Pink Corvette convertible.
Floor it to the airport.
Jamaica beach front honeymoon.
Daze back home to Barbie pop-up Dreamhouse.
Conception goes no further.
Seventeen.
Real life Ken.
Crooked grin.
Daddy’s rusted Datsun.
Leaky cabin honeymoon
borrowed for the weekend.
Four hours home
to fourth floor walk-up.
Delusion makes it sightly.