Elizabeth C. Neavel @ March 7, 2010 # 3 Comments
Words on the Page
by elizabeth c. neavel
I am starry-eyed little pieces of joy
exploding in your atmosphere
I am happy tiny lovebugs
crawling tickling along your seams
Exploding through your atmosphere
I am b-b-b-breathless sleeping next to
songs floating through the clear clear
ocean waves of deliciously rough cat tongue
I am b-b-b-breathless lapping
clapping hands with rock candy cliffs
I am ecstasy (not the [...]
Elizabeth C. Neavel @ February 24, 2010 # 8 Comments
Real All of the Sudden
by elizabeth c. neavel
(For Allison James, Austin Chaffin, Sol Richey, and Alex Red)
It was just real all of the sudden, Alison said. I couldn’t
handle it. I
had to run upstairs and scream and cry and
slump down on the floor.
“My friend shot himself in the head.”
The sentence had just come out
of nowhere.
Jeffrey [...]
Elizabeth C. Neavel @ July 19, 2009 # 11 Comments
1.
You growl into me
Pinned down like prey, the rush
In controlling arms.
Elizabeth C. Neavel @ May 28, 2009 # 2 Comments
It Is Not That Makes Me A Woman
by elizabeth c. neavel
It is not the curve
of my breast as it
hangs low
nipples pointing down
with gravity
beneath my blouse
that makes me a woman.
It is not
the youth of my hips
concealing the
Soft
inner white
dimples of my thighs
swaying under my blue jeans
worn from second-hand use.
It is not my Lips
as they smile
and inhale
and [...]
Elizabeth C. Neavel @ April 15, 2009 # 3 Comments
Staples
by elizabeth c. neavel
She had too many staples, she decided.
They just sat there on her cluttered desk
in her tiny apartment
in their little blue box
taking up space.
“Fuck,” he said,
sitting desperate in his spacious flat downtown
holding his final college essay
ever.
“I just ran out
of staples.”
Later, at the convenience store,
He complained to the clerk:
“You know that pack you buy [...]
Elizabeth C. Neavel @ February 25, 2009 # 11 Comments
I’d Rather Be Showering.
by elizabeth c neavel
Seriously.
I just left the shower
to say
I love my pussy.
And that
all I wanted to do was take
one
slow
shower.
Cleanse my body.
My thoughts.
My soul.
But
all I did
was stick my hand in the fast
hot jets,
draw it out again
and sigh with intense exasperation.
Because:
you,
my insufferable muse,
decided that I would
march
right back to my room
and type how much [...]
Elizabeth C. Neavel @ November 30, 2008 # 2 Comments
It’s Almost Time for Dinner
by elizabeth c. neavel
I
Sometimes
you can sit in a graying hanging-basket swing (so weathered by the years on St. Lawrence),
on an island with pine trees
so dense and
humming birds
so small and fast outside
of the screened-in porch windows.
And they are gone to the store
it is [...]
Elizabeth C. Neavel @ October 27, 2008 # One Comment
Slippery
by elizabeth c. neavel
and I could not sleep
all I could think about
was how you told me you
wanted me to spread them
and how you liked that I got so juicy.
and I opened the window
letting the cool October air
whisper over me
my nipples grew hard
my hands forgot themselves
and I began to wander
and the sirens
that wail in the middle [...]
Elizabeth C. Neavel @ September 15, 2008 # One Comment
stars
by elizabeth c. neavel
We were what the stars are made of,
again, and
you peered into my constellations,
and
you were my galaxy.
SuperGiants luminous,
As big as the Milky Way.
We are
fueled by nuclear fusion
converting hydrogen
into helium.
The hotter you get,
The brighter I become.
For five billion years,
I will shine for you.
No matter the distance.
My hydrogen depleted,
your core contracts
outer [...]