Kissing the Relics
What enlightenment means,
that you’ve lightened up,
all mammals, birds, and insects,
exchanging caresses,
women turning pale,
a cataglottism of pigeons
the molten images of calves,
we are kissing the relics,
Mae West and Anna May Wong,
never to be kissed on screen,
(may I love you, put your
sweet lips on me!)
Dark Age
Driving the end of a wooden spoon
up underneath my scapula,
I found a pair of wing bones left over from
a Dark Age I couldn’t remember anything about.
I don’t think we ever had a dog.
The enamel had worn off by then,
and the pabulum was
spiked,
I was drunk, singing through
one shattered tooth.
—
Megan Alford graduated from Concordia University’s Creative Writing Program where she was shortlisted for the Irving Layton Award in both poetry and fiction. Her poems have been published in Matrix Magazine, Soliloquies Anthology, Encore Literary Magazine, Vallum, Room, Cirque Literary Journal, and Poetry Breakfast. Originally from Prince Edward Island, she now resides in Vancouver.
