Two Poems by AJ Huffman

Destructive[ly Entertaining]

The implosion was set
for 7:30 a.m. Publix opened 2 hours earlier
than usual to accommodate the expected
crowds. Thousands arrived before dawn
on a Sunday to watch. The chaos
rained gallons of dust over the onlookers.
inside the blast radius, applause
erupted. There were whispers of vibrations
inducing labor pains. Too bad
it was a hospital vaporized
at the close of the countdown.

A Bizarre Burning of Bees

The hive is a li[v]e in a hand full of dreams.
And spinning a span of conscious debauchery,
this blustering buzz bounces. A ball
of (subtle?) subterfuge re-assembles
inside its space. Place time
against its shadow. Three wishes dissolve
each other in the middle of their own. Sentence
decryption: the headstone is riddled
by tractors. Trading blades with labels
seems civilized somehow in this smokeless dimension.
Or was it/I spoking dementia as we flowered
into each other’s scenes? Of science
and rationale . . . such rhetoric
recites its own curve.

C is the grade of the grave we cover
with[in] exhaustion’s breath.

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Two Poems by AJ Huffman

Withered Wishes

“i’m sorry” is [apparent-
ly] just not a word
my ears deserve to hear. my heart
is the only echo-
location: displacement facility.
check my vitals. they are still
signing: dump your guilt.

Reconstruction of a Self

His arms respond to my thoughts.
A new chill replaces my shivering.
Did I thing too loud? He must understand
I am [not] weak. He smiles. I can
hear his eyes laughing. He read that too.
My mind is his canvas. He is re-painting
me in humorous hues. And I can see
myself there, in this new mirror
shaped like him. And I am enjoying
the merriment as it splashes across my skin.
Joining the communicative silence, I meld
my lips to his. I understand words
are incidental. This is the true language
of time.

Profile: AJ Huffman