by Mickey J. Corrigan
"Florida Hurdles" — Claytoonz by Clay Jones |
You flip a seven and—
the day hatches bright, shiny
new penny in the white sand
bronze bodies washing off
emptiness at the azure shore.
Morning brings no escape
from one's and two's
wild gaze, rocky wonders
a better hand today
to grasp straws with claws.
The afternoon overheats
hard scowls over face cards
erasing your winnings
double-crossing the house.
Happy hour obliterates
all of tomorrow's concerns:
another wave of cool luck
or a fast ride under glass
flashing lights ablaze.
Night sounds simmer down
squelched by humid air
the eerie cries of coyotes
nosing barrels of scraps
soaked in fresh blood.
The unknown lingers:
that you awaken again
to another day of play
fate on your side…
or you're forced to fold
beating, beating
like bones on a drum—
taps, not reveille.
Originally from Boston, Mickey J. Corrigan writes tropical noir with a dark humor. Her poetry has been widely published in literary journals and chapbooks. In 2020, Grandma Moses Press released Florida Man. Her novel The Physics of Grief puts the fun back in funerals while taking a serious look at the process of mourning (QuoScript, UK, 2021).