Prairie M. Faul | Two Poems

Have you had any water tonight

The deer neck’d
bone hung between
your breasts
& I drew company
the grass around my
face & wept
I am tense
skin pendulum
& who are you
the illegible
tongue’d the
hand stack
over mine
do you recall
what time
the night moves
onward & stills
some place
miles of lip-lost
magpie’d nicotine
stuft in your pocket
& so on
we are balanced
arc mid-way
jettisoned out
to tumble an old
fawn a new
eye’d excursion
& goosebump’d
shoulder from
the moonlight caught
in the throes
of a bike light


I keep saying “what?” even though I heard you 

Are you reading this?
I mean
Is this more words
Than body
I mean
Isn’t this as stable
as you like it to be
Can I walk with you?
I keep asking things
That sound the same as
Let’s keep wasting things
I mean
Removing things
Like loneliness
& confusion
& the noise
Between us



Prairie M. Faul has two books and two dozen crushes. Her latest work Burnt Sugarcane can be found at GloWorm press. Find her in New Orleans and complaining about it @motsduprairie.