National Poetry Month: THE DEAD GIRLS SPEAK IN UNISON by Danielle Pafunda

The Dead Girls Speak in Unison

by Danielle Pafunda

THE DEAD GIRLS SPEAK IN UNISON

Where’s our deady daddy?

Where’s our dear dead

dada man?

We’re all dolled up.

We’re curls and pearls

and ruffled pants.

We’ve tacked our skin

back ontobones, and hissing

roaches at our throats.

Gemless, rigged.

We’re daddy’s girls

we’re apples

pierced through

the heart, the socket

where the heart

or the eye once was.

We’ve his eyes, in fact

his expression fixed,

a fix, a needle

dropping down

a syringe full of seed

straight into the cavity

or this bombed-out hide.

THE DEAD GIRLS SPEAK IN UNISON

Spider-legged leader

of that fey

and itsy nation

was it really a new year?

The clock has a hitch

and the wedding walks.

This poem is from issue 39.2. You may purchase a copy here.