by Kelly McKay
sitting on the front porch
of the poor house
staring straight into the sun.
iridescent beams fill both eyes
with sweating promise
to the brim like two
water balloons tied tight
by little fingers pinched
begging not to burst.
“my favorite movies are the ones
where everyone gets everything
they want in the end.”
answering to sobriquets; sweetheart
big guy, little one-
could grow up and two-
step off of this stoop
into almost, and almost
is immeasurable.
it’s unjust and one
might land fixed
in the center frozen
like a fly in the jello
on the fourth of july.
Kelly is a folk-loving home grown vegetarian and a collector of selfies at national park welcome signs. She works in the mental health field and lives with her partner, rescue dog, and fish. She is a poet who has had previous work published in Ariadne Magazine.