Come on Pretty Momma
Kelly Jones
Here there be monsters, but so it is everywhere.
Nothing ever really disappears and memory is
a numbered exit where we spoon in the early morning
sugar into coffee, thighs sticky against torn vinyl.
Access roads hide strange fortunes, 24 hour diners
that share parking lots with adult novelty shops.
The jewels my parents gave me
are worth their weight in gold but I
am allergic to that most precious metal.
XXX marks the spot and this treasure
can’t be bought with coins like those stuffed animals
won from claw machines in gas stations,
the ones that fall apart
if touched too much. I tense up
and try to pull out of harm’s way before I get in it,
because the victim still gets the blame
and I don’t want to become another weird
Wikipedia article someone skims
on a sleepless night, so I’ll stay behind
the dirty glass, dancing further out of reach.
Kelly is an MLIS candidate. Three of their favorite things are glitter, manatees, and impromptu dance parties.
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