Nostalgic
The flies are dropping
like so many dead lovers,
their innards
and accomplishments
smeared across
the obituary page.
What will taint
the ointment now?
Or spoil the soup?
After all, there’s
not a pig by the seat
of my pants,
just a sticky stain
of no-sugar jelly,
quite unlike the kind
my mother used
for school lunches
and other humiliations.
Kelly Moyer can often be found wandering the mountains of North Carolina, where she resides with her husband and two philosopher kittens, Simone and Jean-Paul. Hushpuppy, her collection of short-form poetry, has recently been released by Nun Prophet Press.