Deer Friends
Killed a deer
driving Home
drunk Feet
spread out
clawing a lumberjack blanket
The air
conditioner on Feeling
better
I’ve killed
and forgot
My car’s
hot
tires treaded by
parts
of a carcass across
the dry heated
pavement
His antlers scraped
the road Standing over him
I pointed at his temple
with a squirt gun Washing
him because
blood was getting in his eyes
Drunk on the mattress
alone No sleep Thinking
what I’d do if I ever killed a deer
♦
Blaise
The party in my basement was a hooked fish
struggling to jump
ship
—
Kyle Kirshbom lives in San Marcos. His poetry can be found at Silent Auctions and Sybil, as well as the forthcoming issue of SCAB. Currently working on a collection.
Instagram: kushbom420
