Poetry by Debbie Collins
Debbie usually writes about unredeemable people, so these poems are a departure for her. There is some hope to be found. Debbie is a poet from Richmond, Virginia, and has been published in Third Wednesday, antinarrative, The Lake, and others
Icarus and the Moon
I thought I was the smartest, the prettiest, the most interesting
girl in the room. I thought I seduced everyone with my star shine.
I was at a table by myself, making love to my bourbon,
when it occurred to me that it was a good idea to hang off the balcony.
I can fly, I told everyone. Let me go! The moon was full and
I longed for its embrace. We were best friends, after all.
So now there's the oval pink pill, and the tiny red round one,
and let's not forget the diamond-shaped, all-powerful white one.
I'm just like new now, all bright and shiny. As far as dancing
with the moon? Well, you can't say I never tried.
The possibility of a
sweet, sweet summer
the edges of the blinds
Don’t wake me
I bent to your honeyed lips
trying to rouse you
and tasted myself
I waited for you before
letting the sun crash in
through the windows now thrown open
Would you wake
if I promised you heaven?
I can make it happen