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Archive for the ‘Jason L. Huskey’ Category

To You, Meatloaf

By Jason L. Huskey

Meatloaf,
Alpha and Omega,
the beginning and the
oh-shit-look-out-for-that-tree!
Hot steam torque fills crusted tubes,

jogging corpuscles lapping fat
platelets about the tracks,
until the final pinhole of space catches,
love handles of chubby RNA

plugging the dyke; Carrie feels the tug,
her crotch knowing hell
is arriving before her brain
can jot out its binary code:

100101001101001,
put down the goddamn fork
,
her 112-pound frame flopping
across the dining room.

She offers little response as tiny fists
pound at her baseball boobs,
feeling out where the one hundred
and eight stitches will go.

Her brother sneaks a forkful from her plate
as the coarse medics curse the ceiling
for just one more minute to resuscitate.
He prays Heaven is paved with their mama’s

secret recipe. Carrie remembers none of it,
not the dinner, not the excitement
in passing away unsuccessfully–
just the white light of six in the morning and
looking forward to leftovers on Texas toast.

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Reserved For Two

By Jason L. Huskey

It’s cold.
Nuts-in-your-elbows cold.
But here you are,
like a child without technology,
one who remembers pornography
in the form of a crumpled-up copy
of a Sears catalogue tucked away
behind the pickle-green washing machine–
like a man who needs the reality
of a wet handkerchief against his skin–
one whose vision falls off the axis
between believing and belief personified–
like the eagles and the lions and the bears–
like the propaganda of pavement,
wet, unmarked, always at night.
But here you are,
studying the shallow breaths
in between shouts, ingesting
the saliva of a still tongue,
witnessing pink flesh fluctuate
through all its hellish shades.
Even summer nights may fall
victim to an outlier of frost;
but love, in its cruelty,
outlasts us all.

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