If you can stand it, color your
waterline in black kohl. Don’t
worry about smudging—that will
happen without trying. Tonight
you’re Elizabeth Taylor playing
Cleopatra, and you belong to no one.
Cast your bread upon these murky
waters, awash in reflections of signs.
The gutters are full of trash, and some
of it sparkles. It’s all so beautiful.
Who knows what valuables have
been lost, only to be glimpsed one
last time before going down the drain?
by Michelle Brooks
Michelle Brooks is author of the poetry collection, Make Yourself Small (Backwaters Press), and a novella, Dead Girl, Live Boy (Storylandia Press). Her poetry collection, Flamethrower, will be published by Latte Press in 2019. She has just finished a book of photographs titled Illusion Warehouse.
A native Texan, she has lived much of her adult life in Detroit.