Two Poems
by Christie Ann Reynolds

The Karma of Quick Sex

We were in a microwave and it was the future. A telepathized way of making
Love was supposed to ensue but we sat there and fried. This is not a dream
I remember saying. Is it a poem, you asked. I said I didn’t know but we continued
to spin in our little glass dish, hoping for something fantastic to happen. Should we step
out and cover ourselves with plastic first, You asked. I said no, lets keep going. For hours we spun like broccoli on that dish. Suppose We stepped off the edge—
would it be like the climax—We pondered this silently until our thoughts welded together
and our heated hair singed into a thought-nest of defective—of defective what?
Our brains were puddling in the heat. We began to ask the light that hovered above us,
is this a test? Are We pointless beings consumed with peoplery? We were in a microwave and it was the future. We realized all we wanted was freedom from timers
and to be good, crisp people.

How to Rid Yourself of a Dan

A dan is a dangerous mechanical toy bird that pecks
when you look at it. Place it at your feet and it will climb
the length of your knees for a good close stabbing of your eyes and goodness
gracious, let it in your house and expect every doorjamb
to be green white and dirtied as a goat post. A dan is an insignificant
weevil, one that burrows into ears, fatigues your listening
and gives you heebie jeebies and willies. A small dan
is not as threatening as a large dan but put a small dan
and a large dan together in one tank and holy moly,
their eyes will bulge like rhinoceros eyes, their bellies
will puff like an adder's throat and if you don't separate them in time
you will have several motes and spores of dan. For safekeeping,
place all dans in a rusted coffee can, stew in the yard
with brackish rainwater for nine months and one day,
the dans may just change their off-tune by leaping out with apologies
and eulogies for their old selves. What's best, however,
is to drive your dan out into the farthest kingdom-come
and watch from a telescope as he tangles in briars and weeds.

Christie Ann Reynolds' manuscript, idiot heart was the 2009 winner of The New School Chapbook Competition. She has an MFA in Poetry, a BA in English and an MsEd in Secondary Education. Christie Ann is a member of The Poetry Brothel and her work can be found or is forthcoming in BlazeVox, My Name is Mud, Robot Melon, Sub-Lit, Critiphoria, and others. Her first full-length manuscript will be published by Black Maze Books in 2009.