IS THIS THE BLOCK THAT HAS THE HOUSE WHERE I DID COKE IN AN UPSTAIRS BEDROOM WITH MY LITTLE SISTER IN 2007
Alexandra Naughton
Monday morning shows again
blue and crisp
I could be back in norcal
there’s always something I’ve forgotten
and forgiven too
South Philly’s sidewalks
keep me grounded
teeth in the before photo
the turns and bumps
nudge my daughter to slumber
I’m combing past writing
fly eggs from dog fur
adages once significantly soaked
today syrup heavy
I’m wide awake now
ready to repurpose
another loin and slice thru
CHIRALITY
Alexandra Naughton
This poem is for the secret lover
sitting blue light faced while the other sleeps
reading every reply
on a Breaking Bad subreddit.
This poem is for everyone
who was once a seventeen year old girl
who dated a guy who made them watch La Jetée.
It’s ok to watch it again. You’re not derivative.
I WISH I COULD WRITE A POEM
Alexandra Naughton
This is you in the future
with the first person who shows up
when you hit share.
GOD IS EVERYTHING YOU CAN’T CONTROL
Alexandra Naughton
lift my baste and gather
swallow
pull me
peeking boneless
you me on the windowsill
my favorite spot
under wet flesh
human casing
my body and my skin
doll me
into a caricature—
no, in caricature
spectral and cobwebby
an inaccurate memory
rumor in with spoil
Alexandra Naughton is the author of ten poetry collections. Her first novel, American Mary, won the 2015 Mainline contest by Civil Coping Mechanisms and was published in 2016 by the press. Her work has been featured in Dusie, Sporklet, sin cesar, Maudlin House, carte blanche, and elsewhere. She writes Talk About It on Substack, and sometimes posts on Instagram.
Photo: Rohan DaCosta