Split Open, cadaver
Bloodhound scent trail
Electromagnetic failure
Tingling, coursing
into deep veins
A throb so deep it dehydrates
by sucking
Ambitious adventure
full of viscosity, No energy
Lapping the pool of sick
Feeling weary and barbed
Dying alone
No reaching out
Hidden destiny of unknown origin
I lay here
Imagining
It all


© Doniell Cushman. All Rights Reserved. This poem or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the author
except for the use of brief quotations in a review.

Neat stacks build
Hand over fist
To the tip of the bat
Game now won


© Doniell Cushman. All Rights Reserved. This poem or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the author
except for the use of brief quotations in a review.

I could kidnap you
Keep you safe from all harm

I could sing for you
And make my heart bleed

I could lie for you
And it would all be changed

I could cry for you
So rivers would flood again

I could meld with you
Keeping you tight in my arms

I could wait with you
As the trauma lets loose


© Doniell Cushman. All Rights Reserved. This poem or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the author
except for the use of brief quotations in a review.

Sometimes I dream about you,
even though it's been years
When I remember my dreams, it
makes me wonder did you see
the woman change?
I remember we had good times
before he forced me into a literal
corner
And a few months later your BFF
ratted me out, then humiliated and
tortured me for years
simply for enjoyment
But it was nice to see you as you 
were, like Rose saw Jack
After all, I loved you
Did you see the movie stars come out?
Did you see he executives and actors'
Fall?
What do you think now,
Considering it all?


© Doniell Cushman. All Rights Reserved. This poem or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the author
except for the use of brief quotations in a review.

My daughter drew on this page
And I thought it was sweet
She wants to be like Mommy
Our artist in                                                                  residence


© Doniell Cushman. All Rights Reserved. This poem or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the author
except for the use of brief quotations in a review.