Aneeqa Chaudary Poetry

putrid layers of
viscous jersey exhaust
sizzle and settle on sill and stucco
of our gray apartment house on Route One

eight lost heartbeats
syncopate behind five doors
in a co-dependent metronome of
shrieking caged birds,
army green dumpster lid crash,
frozen dinners,
cat shit,
Zoloft,
abortions

I rattle as much as the worn floorboards to the
clomp of fat Joe
heaving three hundred pounds up the steps,
pump quake of speeding semis,
angry feet stomping past to slam the door

There was a lost island summer once
adagio sunsets but a dream long spent,
Now I sit on a threadbare, hand me down couch,
Listen to his goddamn Mahler records,
Eat six pieces of marmalade toast and pay his bills

but beneath the planks there is
Peart-pulse,
strawberry locks, save the whales, and malboro lights

knock, knock

Poet: Leslie Ann Eisenberg