Good Spew and Three Haiku

First published in Ibis Zine, Issue Six, 2017

Good Spew

Laughter spewed,

exuded across derelict patio.

Better over the tongue

than boxed wine bile.

Mirth gurgling against the

crooked rock faces of our throats.

Fingers, sticky & slimy with it,

make hand signals to old neighbours.

Sound of it is a slap on the mouth,

startling us from our Sunday sesh stupors.

Television on? (drowned out out out)

Idiot box speaks monolingual static

-never stood a chance with us.

Risky red shared straight from the box,

shared cigs, shared couch, shared hammock,

shared house. A sideways mess on stilts on

the middle of a hill. Walls tremble, swoon, still.

Change of topic, laughter remains, stains.

Cigarette ash is glad of lighter company.

All pockets empty, refrigerator full

of zooper doopers & nothing else besides.

Laughter spewed, exuded

From him to her to me to you (especially).

Pooling on the patio, falling through the cracks

of the pinewood boards. Call it back like a loyal dog

to your side. Spit, swallow, regurgitate.

Anatomy of an Ibis (Three Haiku)

Pink and fleshy scalp.

Black dinosaur skin below.

Gross feathers between.

Ugly ivory.

The epitome of ew.

It’s their cross to bear.

Sifting for bin juice.

A stray chip or two will do.

He’s settled for less.