Audrey Stephenson Poems

Will you be nicer with the laser printer?
You started out depriving a nice window going to be set aside for nothing.
Your problem was personality circuses,
And not enough ideas serving your IQ.
...

have you ever felt like crawling out of your skin,
that integumentary shroud,
just to sleep until it's safe to go outside again?
...

It was in the May of the Summer
I turned seventeen
I bought all that cancer I thought I'd need
And I stitched the prettiest words together
...

I see your face through cerrated glass
Your eyes steer me away in some diplomatic refrain
The roots of your hands clenched tightly to my earthy shoulder blade
And as I hide behind these inky veins
...

I live in a corrugated meaning
That grasps the same color of a callous moon
Pasting its shadow on the surreal labyrinths of heedless justice
Not knowing what thruth it holds, if any...
...

How does it feel?
To catch the bouquet of broken faces
An attempt to appeal to the youth who already adored you
That beautiful key with the lonesome voice
...

Voluminous lines dig a ditch for their fathers
Something to dust off these lonesome bars
And to scrape those endearing memories from the floor boards
With your oaken skin, buttons fall off to kiss the glowing light
...

One hundred misfortunes per square inch
This widowed press is hot with a climbing shame
Flip through these trees, these lonely streets,
They're just synonomous.
...

You cannot force me into an act of contrition
To pull up the straps of a narcoleptic faith
Just to pine in the corner of a room called desire
You cannot make me love with a timid shame
...

Oh God Oh God Oh Science
Part of me wishes the silver would have just hit the driver's side door
And with everyone thinking I'm dead
It makes the ambiguity of life so bitter
...