I Am There
different shades of insanity, and
none of them are exact
I whisper to shadows, laugh
when they refuse
to whisper back.
I tape my mind
together with invisible dreams
that look like lies but sparkle
I have cut myself
too many times on their edges. My own
have gone soft, eroded by ghosts of pasts
I have effectively forgotten. On purpose,
I change my name (daily—to match
my eyes and the number of stars
I see in morning’s sky).
in empty corners of crowded rooms.
I am catastrophe—my legacy,
the very definition of disaster.
in perpetual motion
Spiders on the Brain
I dream a stream of robotic
arachnids with razored legs.
They are jaggedly jousting their way
around. Listening for the sound of the lock
on the backdoor of my mind, I peek through
the keyhole to catch them
shimmying their way down my spine.
About the Author
A.J. HUFFMAN has published eleven solo chapbooks and one joint chapbook through various small presses. Her new poetry collections, Another Blood Jet (Eldritch Press), A Few Bullets Short of Home (mgv2>publishing), Butchery of the Innocent (Scars Publications) and Degeneration (Pink Girl Ink) are now available from their respective publishers and amazon.com. She has an additional poetry collection forthcoming: A Bizarre Burning of Bees (Transcendent Zero Press). Huffman is a three-time Pushcart Prize nominee, a two-time Best of Net nominee, and has published over 2300 poems in various national and international journals, including Labletter, The James Dickey Review, Bone Orchard, EgoPHobia, and Kritya. She is also the founding editor of Kind of a Hurricane Press.