Fallopia

Three Poems

Victoria Sroka

Platypus Records

1.

Broken plaster plays reckless in the heath-cliff

The sandpapers majesty was a fix

& barbles rifted papa’s keyed liver on
the table with the revolver

2.

Feeling the mark of the table top collective boots

Ringlets of yellow fire cracked sun cakes—

a wolf on the hunt for the opal fox

Both are poured in wax as the thief flew out the window.

War Along
the Faults

I’m sorry to tell you but we’ve been mapped

A war of Nebraska wanting to lie
over Kansas—

We caught the drooling Michigan
peach spit.

So a fiddle jar plucks honey on a string

I sell it for
twelve dollars

You need to yield more.

A rosemary bush plants its egg

Tenderizing the pork mogul with her giants hooks

I like the symmetry of our days

As if angles were never just lines.

Pressing Into View

We crapped soot in the

audio

Tell me how long it is

that you’ve been with two left ears?

A skid milk drops cluster into a fruit

basket

As a
basket of fleas fled for warmer moons.

Our chins catching the
drooling Michigan
peach spit

A carp cannot access the
key to unlock you,

But there’s a window in
your stomach

& it’s marked in
bars

I lay my head all in
your simple

Victoria Sroka
is unemployed, Polish, and lives in a seedy basement apartment in Chicago. One day she
hopes to fulfill her dream of writing poems in a hot air balloon. She will be
blogging at Mrs. Peacock in the Conservatory
soon.