Three Poems – Jill Khoury

DRUNK IN A MIDNIGHT CHOIR

 “The Entire City” (1934) Max Ernst

Turncoat Erotica
after Kurt Weston’s Reticulation

I swallowed broken
glass to get here.

[Here is subjective.]

What I mean is
I rubbed vaseline

over my torso and scraped

myself along asphalt
to forget you.

After that I was pebbled,

gelid, licked. I can breathe 
under water; love me.



Anhedonia

The sun lowers itself 
through a chemical cloudstack
faster than my rate of breathing.

Light drips across the mouths 
of angel statues. Sloughs off 
the backs of dead war heroes. 

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