carries a smart little pistol in her garter.
after some verse full of jive.
my mother down, shoot off my ammunition.
sunflowers in sockets, peat moss in socks.
(the price of chicory, a paperback novel).
I heard it, I'd never been touched.
with you. It doesn't take much to shake it.
a prom theme, some Pretenders song.
Lindsay Bell recently completed her MFA in Poetry from Columbia College Chicago. Her work has appeared in Black Clock, Columbia Poetry Review, Wicked Alice, and elsewhere. She currently resides with her husband, David, a seminarian at the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago, and her cat, St. Alphonsus, patron of theologians and vocations, in the Hyde Park neighborhood of Chicago.