Thunder Sandwich #12-It's What's For Lunch
Poetry By

C.C. Russell



SUGAR. BOY. LEFT.

Sugar boy left,
pulled a wheelie
on thin air
and disappeared
into less,
resonating -
two strings on a cello
plucked
in passing.

This is his sound,
the vibratto
of breath
rattling
in cigarette lungs,
the twang
of the end
of some stupid
country
song.

**********************************************



THE GIRL IS

Someone
undressing
in a horror film
so you know
she will be
the next one
to go.

She is doomed,
swollen
in her own
skin.


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