Red velvet cake
from a box
smothered
in milk-white frosting
Everyone has a fork
& we stab at it
all at once
& we eat
what we kill
until there’s nothing
but red smudges
on our mouths
like fresh blood
This feels good
This feels like
it means something
HTML
Throwing up into sinks
sending you emails
wanting to be your
Craigslist Missed Connection
wishing it was like, 1997
& I existed within HTML
& that you were a blue link
I could click on and consume
Mantra
My favorite movie
has 5% on Rotten Tomatoes
so like, fuck every man
who acts like he knows
some objective truth
Francesca Kritikos is from Chicago. Her poetry has appeared in Peach Mag, Hobart, Hotdog Mag, and more. Her chapbook, IT FELT LIKE WORSHIP, was published by Sad Spell Press in June 2017. She tweets @sappho1996.
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