Undress
\nmolasses sweet.
\nReach
\nthrough the sound
\nof smiles and tomorrows.
\nHook
\nyour nightly
\ndream.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
tires <\/p>\n <\/p>\n gather on a tired handrail leading to the subway, <\/p>\n <\/p>\n A.J. HUFFMAN<\/strong> has published thirteen full-length poetry collections, thirteen solo poetry chapbooks, and one joint poetry chapbook through various small presses. Her most recent releases, The Pyre On Which Tomorrow Burns<\/em><\/a> (Scars Publications), Degeneration<\/em><\/a> (Pink Girl Ink), A Bizarre Burning of Bees<\/em><\/a> (Transcendent Zero Press), and Familiar Illusions<\/em><\/a> (Flutter Press) are now available from their respective publishers. She is a five-time Pushcart Prize nominee, a two-time Best of Net nominee, and has published over 2,600 poems in various national and international journals, including: Bone Orchard<\/em><\/a>, The Bookends Review<\/em><\/a>, Corvus Review<\/em><\/a>, EgoPHobia<\/em><\/a>, The James Dickey Review<\/em>, Kritya<\/em><\/a>, and Labletter<\/em><\/a>.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Of Pole Dancers and Dark Desires Undress molasses sweet. Reach through the sound of smiles and tomorrows. Hook your nightly dream. Of Screeching tires featherlings fingernails on chalkboards sonic tonations of terror & terrorizing tangible auditory ………..hallucinations ………..elicit… Continue Reading
\nfeatherlings
\nfingernails
\non chalkboards
\nsonic tonations
\nof terror
\n& terrorizing
\ntangible
\nauditory
\n………..<\/span>hallucinations
\n………..<\/span>elicit
\nphysical
\nresponses
\near covering
\nskin crawling
\nechoes reverberating
\n………………………..<\/span>down
\n………………………..<\/span>spines<\/p>\nWatching the Rain<\/h1>\n
\nthe metal worn, possibly diseased, layered in years
\nof germs left by fingers and palms. I wonder if it sees
\nthe water as temporary relief, even as it quickly rolls
\noff its smooth curves. I look deeper, searching
\nfor the answer in the tiny drops clinging
\nto the underside of the silver cylinder. What I see
\nis a strange universe, a bizarre abstraction
\nof the city surrounding us, skyscrapers smashed
\nflat, mixing with the graffitied letters, spelling out
\na bizarre tomorrow that somehow seems to make sense
\nin a blink of a moment just before it falls
\ninto the obliterating oblivion of another anonymous puddle.<\/p>\n
\n
\n