THREE POEMS by LEXI ROSEN
The Reminders in My Reminders App That Are Close to Poetry Shaped If You Squint Just Right and Imagine, While You Read, The Pulse You Felt In Your Hips, Your Belly, The Nanosecond Before and For The Eleven Minutes After Your Most Recent First Kiss
Outlines of ice look like hair // How many places can I land with borderline apocalyptic skies? // Finger of moonlight // Plumber // “Magic Box” as “Vagina” // This is not discovery, it’s adultery // Not a minimalist endeavor // Stopped to look in the direction of an ambulance. Looked away when it didn’t pass me by. // My skin’s the warmest part of me // Spiritly if undeserved // Gemini moon fuckers // Abhorder // It’s embarrassing for fireworks… no, it’s embarrassing to be driving alone if you can see fireworks out the rearview mirror, yes // Heartshaped girl // I fall so fast but I have wings so the heart rarely breaks // Switchback switchblade switcheroo type-a-girl // Elevator crush // I’m body clockless or maybe it’s not so much the absence of but a multi-clocked moment // Your speed: slow down // Crooked rearview mirror // Flash of plane lights (red) in the clouds when it’s dark
Situationship-Based Heartbreak OR I’ve Been Told I’m Not Allowed To Punch Him
I feel like I’ve been trailing behind you, picking up shards of your heart, slivers of the ventricles for the better part of a year now. And this fucker, another Gemini moon by the way, tried to steal my job. He beat me to the trail of heart like he was Hansel or Gretel, whoever the more vindictive sibling was, and then he had the gall to toss the bag of heart parts out the car window on his drive to Tennessee. After all that. Can a poem be subpoenaed? Should I end it before I start?
Don’t You Assume Your Glassware Has Feelings?
The pair
of funky
champagne flutes
look like
they’re dancing
in the
china cabinet.
Their curved
stems a
pink hollow
glass. The
cup bit
and the
base bit
a royal
blue and
fairly regular,
though a
little bit
off, proportionately.
I almost
bought just
one, but
then was
worried about
her getting
lonely without
a beloved.
Lexi Rosen (she/her) is a writer of run-on sentences and love stories and a poeter of lusty little almosts and heartbreaks from the Chicagoland Area. She studied Fiction at The University of Redlands and is currently a dual-genre Fiction and Poetry MFA student at The Vermont College of Fine Arts. She loves her friends and family, eating cake with a spoon, and disco balls. Her work can be found or is forthcoming at Bullshit Lit, Fugue, and HAD, and she is a recipient of the Jean Burden Poetry Prize Honorable Mention. She is also Co-Founder and Co-Editor in Chief of Silly Goose Press.