Fistfight Your Worst Energy

My face spliced in the static.
Then you shoved my head between three bar
chords for a good four years. A party went on
around me. Until I tore out.
Now you wait for me in bathroom stalls
hands absorbing graffiti for the first blow.
I too am prepared with harsh realities
an arrow dashes toward your grasp.
We get down, two buzzards circle
the same flesh, boring and rotten without us.
Two capes wrestle for the same empty city.
The floor shifts, this fight is on
carousel. Your teeth are red, the horses
laugh, and the world a blur zooming
into focus.

About Nikki Harlin

Nikki Harlin is an MFA student at Cal State San Bernardino where she writes poetry and is a staff editor for Ghost town Literary Magazine.

Post Navigation