Donovan Hufnagle

...out for a cigarette, coffee, and tattoo.
Numb, dangled over the chair arm,
the right foot asks, “will it hurt?”
The left waits like Mother.

“Only when wearing shoes,” the puncturing needle replies.

Orange bleeds into blood like a painter’s tablet
of sunset. The sun burns his veins.
And his 26 bones (28 if you include the sesamoid) ache.

“Does the sun shine, yet?” the right foot asks.

“bzzzzzzzzzzzzz” the needle replies.


Contest t.o.c.
Main t.o.c.