——————————————————————————
Lost Change
Sasha Avampato
We were sucking on
hard candies, you’d
taken them from the
rude kind old lady
who lived down the hall
from the liver spotted-liver
bellied lily livered man.
The one we were there to
see.
He scared me. Brown teeth
blue lips.
I didn’t like the candies. When
I sucked on them
my mouth dried, as dry
as the roses hanging upside
down in the closet. So dry
the petals fall,
I didn’t like
the candies because–
they cracked my teeth against
my gums, against a match against
a rock. The only way you could
eat them was to roll them
over between my fingers
because it was hard
until they got warm and soft.
I didn’t remember the blue
lipped man.
But you told me I had
to take his hand, it was
cold and clammy.
I dropped it, falling.
Flip the coin, tails you
laugh, you cried.
Because I don’t think
He remembered me either,
you cried.
——
Growing Pains
I am sorry to inform
My condolences
Send my regards
Too your tits.
Because they aren’t mine anymore,
Not since I was 12
And I tried to take a bread
Knife and saw them off
Two slices with fruit and honey.
It didn’t work.
Standing on cold linoleum
The doctor said
She won’t grow
She swallowed the
seeds, and they’ve
Taken root.
It didn’t work when
I gave up fruit for lent
It was spring after all.
There are no seeds
that can grow,
once the earth
has been salted.
It worked when
In october hand in hand
you showed me the
hollow hive
full of honey.
We found
two drones
feet apart.
It didn’t work because
You took your tea
two honeys
no milk.
We had no
honey so
a slight gesture
a glance
in mixed company
led to
the back of your hand.
It worked when
Like a rock you sunk.
a trust fall-
I collapsed.
inward, between the lines.
When I loved you,
I was still young.
Motionless.
The rock breaches
A whale Bottom-s up
It worked on
Your birthday,
We drank cheap champagne.
The bubbles popped
and crackled
Bottoms up.
It worked when
In summer, I would
Play pretend.
Throwing firecrackers, at
grown-ups cars.
They sizzled, like
Backs against- hot pavement.
It worked when
I saw an angel,
Those cheap wishing stones.
I picked her up
Then lost her.
I saw her, the old you, again,
Except now we were both
Too tired to sink into
One another.
It works when
Flattened by
Repeated
Patterned use.
I open and close,
Shuffling through
The pages of the book
I forgot to give back.
There are grass clippings
That line the yellow softened
Pages.
Like the
skin
Between your thighs.
If I could I would
Lie forever waiting-
on you to notice
I am still here.
--------------------------------
Luke Abbenante
etherbound Magazine, URI Spring 2024.