Lynn Finger
up the street from us woman
invites neighbors
to her holiday
party, a
hundred years
of cinnamon
air freshener
& taxidermied
animals.
frozen past,
fiberglass
& flayed,
hamstrung.
dead glass eyes,
paws grasp
meaningless
in hide glue.
skunk smirks in the
kitchen,
the living room
racoon has a
grimace.
confused zebras
stare over billiards
& a thin lipped
lion freezes
the bedroom.
they follow
me, their deaths, their
skin rot. she
preserved her past
in them: lovers, husbands,
friends
& enemies,
how lovely
the petrified look.
I recognize their
sour flesh, &
as I turn
to go
they devour me
in my own regrets.
***
Lynn Finger’s poetry has appeared in Night Music Journal, Ekphrastic Review, MineralLitMag, Feral, and is forthcoming in Drunk Monkeys, Thimble and 8Poems. Lynn is one of the founding editors of the Harpy Hybrid Review, and also works with a group that mentors writers in prison.