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Something Blue

11/27/2016

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A poet overhears a musician and a bartender discuss an unfortunately customized wedding cocktail... UPDATE:  This poem got published in the May 2018 issue of Adelaide Literary Magazine!

Something Blue
 
Cocktails made too bitter
for their special day,
the bride’s mom cries
and cannot speak,
the band
plays songs of love
in minor keys,
loud bridesmaids
laugh and push
the bride to dance…
 
She cannot rest,
her fate sealed
with a small dry kiss,
her garter
and her last name
pulled off by his teeth,
she is something blue
but she is beautiful.
Her guests pretend
to like their drinks
while forcing smiles and
aching to be next.

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November 9, 2016

11/20/2016

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I woke up this morning
in a bed
that isn’t mine
in a country
that belongs to someone else
I woke up this morning
not having slept still
hoping it was just
our bad election dream
I woke up more afraid
for my neighbors who wear
hijabs and
rainbows and
hoodies and
turbans and
skin kissed by God
and all the young girls
who don’t know any better
I woke up with my
“I voted” sticker
still hanging
on my jacket
and my suffragist-white-shirt
still wrinkled
on his floor
then I felt around a while
for where I left my heart
in this cold and rainy
unfamiliar land
but it was gone
the first of many
casualties to come.

**This poem is published in Adanna Literary Journal Issue 7, Winter 2017! Yay!

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Witchcraft

11/6/2016

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Inspired by attending the immersive performance of “The Unseen” presented by Linked Dance Theatre.
(This poem is now published in Adanna Literary Journal, Issue 7!  Winter 2017)

Witchcraft
 
Night-tripped,
Salem pilgrim girls
run beneath the stony bridge
just as the howling
city bus flies over.
Time bending
under moonlight
chasing dancers through
Fort Tryon Park
hand in hand with Lust
in cold October.
With nervous smiles
we step across a holy book
a stolen squeeze
a secret glance
subversive dance
        the lewdness of a white hand
        reaching through a lantern loop
hanging for witchcraft
hanging for knowledge
hanging for desire…

Heart pounding beside
this stranger I’ve slept with
aching to warm his
bare hands and neck
with Autumn’s old damnation.

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    Heather Lee Rogers

    I write and perform poetry.  I have been published on many websites and print publications at various times throughout my life. I live in NYC where I also create as an actor. Acting makes me forget that I'm a poet for long stretches of time.  But I mean to work on that here: I'll be posting old poems, new poems, and everything in between. Thanks for visiting.  Enjoy!

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