Tweets/Poems by Janna Liggan

out of cracked kitchen floors,

six dirt crusted siblings and chickenless chicken soup

she rose,

a flash of floating footsteps and a motion

of a tapering, gloved hand.

 

he followed me up to the bar

i gave him a half smile and an incline of my head.

 

i gave him a tight dress and riveting conversation.

he left me while i was sleeping

i gave him eight lines with no culmination.

 

she waited to “sober up” before driving rather than chip in for the cab back.

split four ways the fare would have been $3.

they all waited.

and they all died.

 

don’t wait.

 

why can’t we just leave well enough alone?

 

i gaze up miles of black spotted yellow.

he drops leaves on my upturned face.

 

she woke up shaking tumbleweeds from a dream of bleeding beach houses.

wind trickles over her arm hairs

 

something an ex said about me to my current bf in one of my dreams

 

when she heard she was a heartbreaker

she grinned

 

the low sun glances across the waves

and sharpens with the salt,

resting on the horizon

and the wreckage.


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