by Mindi Greenway

Since my priorities are in shambles,
I just jostled this mess, writing in dust,
everywhere, little I-Love-You’s etched on
tv screens, spelled out from dawn’s coffee grinds.
Kiss me in soap scum on the shower’s floor
where I could wash your feet with my tongue-slap,
licking as a way of worship, a way
to say, beloved, isn’t there beauty
too in coming so undone, dumb to the
lumpy carpet, those hand towels I took
so you couldn’t erase my praise. You, blind
to my phrases, to me, so unknowing
when we hug, you brush snowflakes from my scarf,
hands tracing the shapes of sad, perfect
hearts.

Mindi Greenway’s book, “Song of the Rest of Us,” was published by Kent State University Press in 2010. Also, her work has been anthologized by two presses, including Kent State Press. She has won The Whiskey Island Poetry Prize, judged by Denise Duhamel, and The Wick Poetry Prize, judged by Jim Daniels. Her poetry appears on working-class blogs for many colleges and universities, and has been on display at The Pennsylvania State University during an Arts Festival. In addition, her poems can be found in The Mayo Review, Eclipse, Arsenic Lobster, Perigee, and others.