Todd Colby
Two Poems
In a Stern Way
Maroon crust ripped from my lipsa dime of butter dipped in battery juice
a plate of olives drizzled with antifreeze
an old hand nailed to a goat
thin strips of rubber knife paste on toast
guns drawn on tracing paper
a silver crayon enthusiastically.
Salute
Slapping a red flower
in the bright air
with a plastic knife
until it’s purple
on my side
from dancing.
There is almost
always typhoid
in a body of water
near the suburbs.
