“Cold in the Valley” by Anne Hohenstein

I fed your ass perfect orange oranges
you said it was too much

You wanted the familiar
bruising of plums mottled like your balls
just riper and hairless

You joked that your dog
licked inside your mouth
as if that were transgressive

I laughed because
I will send your funeral flowers

HohensteinAnneAnne Hohenstein is a poet living and working in the Hudson River Valley.  The rest is practical static.

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This entry was posted in Poetry on March 23, 2016