Roaring out of Hell by Melanie Browne

I seek out your writing like
an insatiated sugar-cereal junkie,
a tired gambler at the last
Las Vegas flophouse,
sitting down with
whiskey I
read your poems
and I wonder about
your parents and your
siblings and, especially
the worthless X
did she bury your
heart in Siberia?
here, I'll take my
gold plated shovel,
we'll dig it
up for the bent
of it,
it's probably still
pumping underneath
all that frozen snow,
I'm sure it just needs
a slight dusting,
a nice toddy
and a shave,
a kick in the
O'l nucleus


Gwil W said...

Hell of a poem. Thought from the title it was going to be about Angels on motor bikes. Too cold in Siberia.

bruce dorlova said...

i like the li'l touch of the ceremonial, with the gold plate. maybe you could just put a plaque.


About Me

Black-Listed Magazine is an online literary magazine. We publish on a rolling basis: weekly, daily, sometimes hourly. Send submissions here: