Arsenic Lobster poetry journal Issue Forty-one
Summer 2016
 
Spit
Stephanie Lane Sutton

where the Crucifix lands
                      His jaw sputters a finger
                                   -length of froth
                                            arrowed at Her face
                                   She can’t stop a mouth like that
                      all Its teeth as white as corn
           They both birthed rumors in gospels
                               twin polluted rivers
                                        She says She blocked Him twice
                      Her sycamore braids
                                His twiggy arms
                                          in His version, She is an apparition
                                                       doused in hippie-colored light
                      Her laughter punctuating
           a drunken set of sheets
                      a dream He cannot fully remember
                                in Her version,
                                          the colors are muted
                                                       & Her mouth is closed
                                          & He still wipes His own chin
                      turns Himself over to a cathedral of ears
           walled with a panel of mouthless mirrors
where all men go to Heaven.

About Stephanie Lane Sutton

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