These old bones live to learn her wanton ways: / (I measure time by how a body sways). — Theodore Roethke
the body of the Bennington girl was found a Hail Mary from the New Haven Line by a jogger in a high-cut leotard the officers were not happy being assigned a shapeshifting archetype & while Paul the old flatfoot, was certain the B girl was bound for Canal St. to hawk jewelry for an abortion the baby conceived at a sorority mixer at a nearby boarding school famous for producing ski champions & sex scandals Jack, the rookie remembered the rules of attraction & thought “Why did she have to act so fucking cool?” both men agreed she was not the heiress to Ocean Spray, this would buy them some time and please the Chief whose blue eyes are vacant tombs that say, it’s just another dead girl.
— Damon Hubbs is interested in pulpy paperbacks and films with over-saturated colors. His poems have been featured in Book of Matches, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Otoliths, Roi Fainéant Press, Cajun Mutt Press, A Thin Slice of Anxiety, Horror Sleaze Trash, The Beatnik Cowboy and elsewhere. Links to his most recent published work can be found at dmhubbs.blogspot.com. Damon lives in New England.