poetry

Project Honey

By Amy Thomson

Shoes shuffled squares of grey,
Arm in arm one Spring Thursday,
House museums lined the streets,
Project Honey we would complete.

Ceiling portals opened wide,
Honey sister by my side,
Lights shined through the dancing plaster,
Heartbeats raced faster, faster.

Sticky membranes were my sky,
She saw jungles through her third eye,
Sank beneath the arctic sea,
With my favorite honeybee.

Lava lamps and Christmas lights
Were our suns on this great night.
Venus kept us safe and sound,
In our girl hive, sisters bound.

Then flew in the phallic drones,
We had to leave our royal thrones.
Flew outside to pollinate,
Struggled just to acclimate.

Seeds of fear sprouted their buds,
Water drops became flash floods.
Spooked by gutter’s gurgling mouth,
Sisters started flying south.

I had to leave my fellow queen,
Returned to my hive, began to wean
Never would we forget this trip,
In our golden honey ship.

 

 

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poetry

Off-Balance Balance

By Amy Thomson

Store-bought transmitters
steadfast
strong.
Dulled jitters
heart flitters
taste of bittersweet
saccharine.
Head heavy
pulled down
in submarine
sertraline.
Can’t cum,
heart’s numb
under Complacency’s
adequate thumb.
Quit school,
too cool
too okay
to stay
here,
not out of fear,
but why steer
when I can float?
A balanced ghost
of Amy Christine,
learned to coast,
prescription post.
Not survived,
kept alive.
Inertia derived,
destruction contrived.
Off-balance balance
replaced by tranquil skies
by placid lies.
Feet up,
laid back,
frets lack,
new knack:
No care,
cool stare,
going nowhere.
Life’s infinite treadmill
powered by last bursts
of light
a sight,
burning stardust,
ember distrust,
gasoline lust,
into Earth’s crust.