This is a poem by Luke Kuzmish.
Laura is a gutted motel room
just south of the lake
she laments
(and I suppose)
she weeps
for her children
she waits
for a passing train
Ronnie is
smoke stained wallpaper
in a rented room;
Ronnie is a bent curtain rod
dragged down
by 20 year old fabric
hiding
chipped paint
Phoenix is a used car
a sticker price
for more than she is worth
hiding her errors
under wax
ash
makeup
and perfume
Alex is a recurring cold
an uncleared throat;
a background actor
left on the cutting room floor;a mime
who counts spare change
(but I believe)
inside him
there is a song
that can save.
Luke Kuzmish is a new father, recovering addict, software developer, and writer from Erie, Pennsylvania. His poetry has been featured by Poets’ Hall Press, Beatnik Cowboy, Transcendent Zero Press, Rye Whiskey Review, Ink Sweat and Tears, and Dope Fiend Daily. His latest collection, ‘Little Hollywood,’ was published by Alien Buddha Press in 2018.