Indigo Hawkins Poems

Billiards, darts, coke bottles from 1952.
Among this junk, I don't know what to do.
I think it's time that I let go of you,
but once more I've returned to this basement,
...

gossamer and fluttering, his hand
grazes his throat as he gushes about language,
and I remember he is not a child, no matter
how animatedly he speaks. truly fascinated now,
...

I.
returning to my first home, it smells
like transcendentalism and THC, as if
the smeared memory of his green canvas coat
...

I want my soul to sing
Like its been bursting too; I want to display passion
With a pulsing red, and color it with conflict
By adding a jolt of lurid green.
...

i have this new love, named Haemon.
he calls me Darling and holds me
closely as if i am his dear Life herself.
we met at a masquerade. while he
...

laughter is citric acid squirted in my eye
the florescent stinging of release
inside a flooded bag of lemons
...

There's nothing like the threat of poverty
to sweeten the beaten path, except rum,
& martyrdom, when at last overcome
by shame of excess. O lord don't leave me.
...

Himalayan blessings settle, wind-wrung,
in this pocket of Appalachia—sung
to blurry blue mountains, empowering
our worn gods, whom we've sat devouring.
...

I met you walking in an olive grove.
Strong and unhidden, you let the sun rove
on your thighs, fervor darkening your eyes…
that's all it took for me to realize:
...

We were very weary, and not very wary—
We'd been harassed all night by a cop named Larry.
The streets were dark and dank; we felt unstable—
We began stumbling home to watch roller derby on cable.
...