JUKE
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JOINT
Drowning
Blue desert, expansive as air. You are a liar.
Too much of you widdles around me, hands
on my throat leading me flailing, spiraldown.
Algae (could be arms) enfold me tentacle tight.
Claws (fingers) throng me in crustaceous
chant rage: Victory! Jellyfish bob: rabid spectators
in the ripple. Eels, captains of this vast chasm, fang me.
Their mouths make dessert of me.
Spume blooms like tadpoles.
The shore so far, too far.
You cave me so long I grow waxen.
My skin turns albino. I go blind. Adapting.
Michelle McMillan-Holifield studied poetry at Delta State University in the Mississippi Delta. She is assistant editor for Edify Fiction and recently completed a writer’s residency at Wild Acres in North Carolina. Her work has been included in or is forthcoming in Boxcar Poetry Review, Jabberwock Review, Sky Island Journal, Stirring, The Collagist, Toasted Cheese, Whale Road Review and Windhover among others. She hopes you one day find her poetry tacked to a tree somewhere in the Alaskan Wild.