Angry Girls and Men Who Understand
Through halls, kitchen, bedroom loud, jaw set in granite. Wants to kill with love.
Loose lips but don’t know how. One mean son of a bitch, embarrassed when called upon for rose smelling and day sparkles. Kiss on the cheek, they’ll, she’ll understand. Be comfortable with hatchet buried deep and gardens for soft. Don’t give in to protectors.
Girls Who Are Asleep At The Wheel
A voice trembles, hers, keeps ringing. She stands, afraid, upstairs only.
A vacant sign out front: no cohabitation here. She don’t know.
Editor's Note: These poems appeared in a previous issue.
One time dancer/choreographer now painter/ writer, Neila Mezynski has fiction and poetry published now and forthcoming in: Word Riot, Mud Luscious, Foundling Review, Zygote In My Coffee, Bewildering Stories, everyday Poets, Thirteen Myna Birds, and several more. Mezynski also writes art and music reviews for online and print magazines.