Melissa DeGezelle

2 poems

**


in childhood we spend nearly all of our time waiting


i leave the unfolded still a little
wet laundry in every room of house

even crib is full behind me. charlie’s dead. listen to me. charlie’s dead.

tell them i know. don’t tell them i think
i hear him in moldy clothes

i encounter after finding
things kid shits out

like grapes are raisins before going in washer
and if they make it

dryer turns them raisins again
kid is always waiting for me

on the other side
at least until she’s not.


**


ben dover


he used to tell her not to arch her back
so much / stick her ass up
like it was awkward or something.

she said she couldn’t
help it and most guys liked it that way.
he liked that
she kind of looked like
not a man. a boy
like a boy / a bird chest.

but she didn’t really
like that so she arched her ass up
in an awkward kind of way which felt good
like a woman / or at least
a girl. you know to keep it dirty.

**

return to sawbuck 4.3

**
Melissa DeGezelle lives in Philadelphia. Other poems have appeared or are forthcoming in EOAGH, Shampoo, The Brooklyn Review and 27 rue de fleures.