A poem by Joan McNerney
Sneaks under shadows lurking
in corners ready to rear its head
folded in neat lab reports charting
white blood cells over edge running wild.
Or hiding along icy roads when
day ends with sea gulls squalling
through steel grey skies.
Brake belts wheeze and whine
snapping apart careening us
against the long cold night.
Official white envelopes stuffed with
subpoenas wait at the mailbox.
Memories of hot words burning
razor blades slash across our faces.
Fires leap from rooms where twisted
wires dance like miniature skeletons.
We stand apart inhaling this mean
air choking on our own breath.
Joan McNerney’s poetry has been included in numerous literary magazines, such as Seven Circle Press, Dinner with the Muse, Moonlight Dreamers of Yellow Haze, Blueline, and Halcyon Days. Three Bright Hills Press anthologies, several Poppy Road Review journals, and numerous Kind of A Hurricane Press publications have accepted her work. Her latest title is Having Lunch with the Sky (ISBN-10: 0971463158) and she has received four “Best of the Net” nominations.