Twenty-Five Small Ways to Die

Laura Stringfellow



       the bleeding tongue

       the razor-sliced eye

       the scar in the shape

       of a crescent moon



       the night cough

       the amnesiac who drools

       severed arms packed in ice  



       the first sting of a bone claw

       the cleaved heart

       red bones

       the stitch matted with blood



       the legs that won’t work

       the vein that leaks

       the bruise on the back



       twenty boxes set ablaze in a field

       the broken Chinese teapot

       the rusty flute laid to rest

       in its small casket



       the open throat of knife rust

       empty vodka bottle

       the carved womb

       the snakes in the breast



       the last train

       shutting of the lid

       the closed window



       the man behind the mirror


       the wall with the mouth that lies



Laura Stringfellow writes both verse and prose poetry, holds an MFA in Creative Writing, Poetry, and hails from the muggy strangelands of the Southern US. Recent publications have appeared, or are forthcoming, in various journals including Right Hand Pointing, Déraciné, Neologism Poetry Journal, Clementine Unbound, Black Poppy Review, and Thirteen Myna Birds.