Gina Teel Poems

On the days I sit among them
Tubes dripping poison through our veins,
I make communion with these faces
As my potent cocktail slowly drains.
...

I imagine it bloomed within me,
that small round berry,
As I was throwing a load of whites
into the washer.
...

Man at my door in hard hat, jeans
Well worn clipboard under arm
A small death in my throat
I know what his presence means
...

Acute sensation, nefarious vibration
My arm, that resolute bough
Pinned to my side like a holy scapular
...

Remembering those endless days
yellow summer stretching slowly out
Us, that rowdy bunch
barefoot in high grass
...

I do believe
that when my time comes
to take the final bow
my heel will become caught
...