HOME

      CURRENT ISSUE

      ARCHIVES

      SUBMISSIONS

      BOOKS

      COMING SOON!

 

 

 

        Current Issue        Archives        Submissions        Books        Coming Soon        Contact

 

 
Melanie Browne (email, blog)

 

About the Poet:

Melanie's poetry can be found in Pocket Change(Vol1),Mad Swirl ,Heroin Love Songs (Vol 2) and Poetry Superhighway. She has a poem forthcoming in  Eviscerator Heaven,Clockwise Cat,Word Riot, and The Commonline project . She is a native Texan and lives in Houston.

 

 

why i canít be a poet & i donít have a cat

 
I'm not
sure if I can be
a poet
 
I don't have a cat
 
if I did,
I'm still not sure I
could be a poet
 
because I'd probably
be spending all my time
dressing it up as a baby
wrapped in a towel
or swinging a
glowstick around
in the dark
just to mess with
it's MIND
 
or some shit like that
 
& that's also
why I don't have
a cat

  

 

hedge animals

 
Your hedge animals are
Getting too close
To my hedge animals
 
My hedge animals are
Starting to feel
uncomfortable
 
My hedge animals
Are starting to feel
A growing sense
of horror
 
 the  horror is
Polanski-ish
Slow to build
And smells like tannis root
 
 
My hedge animal's
horror isn't
that serious though
Not prison time serious
Not have to leave
the country serious
 
My hedge animals
are starting to sing starting to
Hum covering  their  ears
like that kid in sixth sense
 
my hedge animals
Have the heebie-jeebies
 and need some personal space
 
Your hedge animals are
Getting too close
To my hedge animals
 

 

Death and ceramics

 
I took a ceramics
Class with death
 
Some people called him
The Grim reaper
Or angel of death
 
He was really good at ceramics
He could throw a pot really well
 
But his favorite thing to do
Was
Raku technique
 
He said it was because he
Really liked fire-
He thought he might be a
Pyromaniac
 
He wrote a lot of poems about fire in his
Journal
Listened to Def Leppard
But he wouldn't let me see
 
Death had a facial paralysis-
a palsy
He said it happened when he was
eight
 
Something tragic
On a seesaw
A crack in the pavement
 
Some kid went down
And death went
To the emergency room
 
And got stitches
He was really nice-death was
He made me a teapot
 
He didn't even stay to take the final exam
Said ceramics just wasn't his thing
 
Said he couldn't afford a kiln
 
 

Letís play hangman using questionable body parts (poem)

  

Let's play hangman using

black- light  markers

I bought from Spencers

 

Let's play hangman using

questionable

body parts

 

We can blast James brown 

 and drink beer

Out of brown paper bags

  

We can  rage against

 the machine

Or  the Kennedys

  

I will probably get hungry

And request some nachos

Through the late-night

drive through

   

losing track of time

And letter space

  

Playing  hangman using

black- light  markers

I bought from Spencers

 

 

When you get desperate

 

When you get desperate enough

To type "magic 8 ball" in

The google search engine

then,

 

you & i

 

we'll have connected

on a

much

 

DEEPER

 

plane