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The Haunting of Archer Avenue

by Kristy Bowen


For the most part it’s all true:
the white dress and fade. Radio
static and the street slicked black

as cats. Ask me where the light goes
and I say dance halls, their music
dwindling to a note that silks along

the inner ear. But here, I’m
an understudy of dark, the slip
in the shadow that speaks

like a girl, but isn't. Kiss me
and I taste like broken light bulbs.
Batteries draining in parking lots.

Doubt inhabits the space between cars,
the drag of headlights over grass
just thickening in the cold. Imagine,

if you will, the pitch between stoplights.
Kiss me and the landscape swerves left.

 

Kristy Bowen’s work has appeared recently in Cranky, Diagram, and Another Chicago Magazine. Her full-length collection, the fever almanac, is forthcoming from Ghost Road Press in fall 2006. She lives in Chicago, where she edits the online poetry zine wicked alice and is enrolled in the MFA in poetry program at Columbia College. (3/2006)


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